


Battle of One

by KimboKah



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abduction, Established Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Permanent Injury, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Sexual Abuse, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26278180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimboKah/pseuds/KimboKah
Summary: He got out; they'd told him he was free.But at what cost...After a chase that went terribly wrong, Connor was stuck inside that house for nearly three weeks. Markus was just glad they had him back. But was the person that returned, still the same person that he fell in love with? What the hell had happened to him? And was it worth it to stay?
Relationships: Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 53
Kudos: 104





	1. Prologue: Turn and Turn Again

**Author's Note:**

> Short prologue for a story idea. If y'all like it, I will continue. If I continue, it will get dark, (hopefully) deep and more original than it may now seem. Here's to hoping. Let me know what you think!
> 
> in other words, this is an excuse for me to explore Connor/Markus, and to sift through a character that was more complicated than I ever thought he could be.

-20

If Hank would call his partner reckless; it would be a half-truth. Connor cared about safety. Hell, sometimes the kid was _very_ adamant about making Hank look left, right, then fucking left again, before letting him cross a fucking street. Or when he was constantly nagging Hank about his irresponsible calorie intake and the effects on his cholesterol levels and the subsequent increased risks of heart disease, Hank did believe the boy cared about safety.

Of others. Because, Hank thought, as he watched the android sprint across the busy streets of Detroit afternoon traffic –without looking either left _or_ right-, one could easily mistake this behavior for recklessness. Of course, Connor would come up with some cocky, insufferable excuse about how androids didn’t need to look before crossing because they always saw every little thing around them and were never caught off guard or some fabricated bullshit like that. Hank had known that was false the moment Connor had nearly jumped out of his artificial skin when that asshole Reed had thrown a cup of scalding hot coffee towards him from fifteen feet away.

Androids don’t feel pain, Connor had reminded Hank stiffly a few minutes after that incident, while angrily wiping at his ruined white dress shirt with paper towels in the men’s room. His skin had been glitching in and out on the left side of his face, all the way down to his collar bone and his shoulders had dropped in defeat. He seemed more disturbed about the state of his hair and his shirt than anything else though.

No, androids _didn’t_ feel pain. But deviants did. Eventually. Hank tried to not so casually remind Connor of that whenever the kid took off like this in pursuit of a suspect. And no, even a deviant wouldn’t feel much if they cut their finger on a piece of paper, or burnt their hand on the stove or even if they stubbed their toe against a piece of solid furniture. But when it came to life and death, deviants in the last six months had quickly adapted to that sense of urgency of survival with something that seemed a lot like a pain response. Simulated, of course, but real all the same. All pain, human or android, was simulated, if you thought about it; was what an excited technician had said about the discovery on the news.

Not Connor, though. Or at least, not anything the deviant wanted to admit to, of course. Whenever he turned up again after a wild goose chase across half the city, Hank made sure to chew him out, but every single time, Connor always looked like he expected praise for doing a good job those first seconds before getting a lecture. He’d press his lips into a thin line during Hank’s tirade and would just minutely narrow his eyes before making some sort of formal apology. Hank would give him a curt nod and they would stare at each other for a few seconds, both knowing with a guaranteed certainty that Connor would do the exact same thing the next time a situation would present itself.

And goddamnit, Hank was getting too old for this bullshit; he thought as he stepped into his car to drive off in the general direction Connor and the suspect had run off in. He was getting too fucking old for stakeouts anyway. True, he’d rather do this, than sit at his desk all day, but sometimes he wondered if it was too much to ask not to be partnered with a goddamn rookie that was –as it turned out- not even a year old yet. Take the apparent death wish into consideration and Hank was sure this android was going to be the death of him. If any of the officers in Hank’s task force back in the day had displayed this kind of behavior to this degree, half of them would have been dead within the first two weeks.

Red Ice dealers were infamously known at the DPD as tripping, trigger happy junkies that thought they could take on the entire world and still come out on top. Guns didn’t scare them off and many of the busts Hank used to orchestrate had ended in violence. God, he had the bullet wound scars to prove it. But, as Connor had said that time Hank had to scrape out a bullet from the androids right shoulder blade, androids don’t feel pain. Not unless you hit something vital.

And even when something vital was hit, when Connor had lain bleeding and gasping on the ground after being caught in the crossfire, he hadn’t changed. Hank had hoped it would open the kid’s eyes; it had been a close call after all. Yet Connor went on, like it was his duty to be the godforsaken hero nobody was asking for. Like he had something to make up for.

And maybe that was it, Hank contemplated while simultaneously cursing the bad weather and darkening sky that made it harder to determine the kid’s route. Connor didn’t talk about that shit. He didn’t talk about what happened before. He didn’t really talk about feelings, period. Which was fine with Hank. If they were going to be two people that bottled up their shit and never decided to talk about it, that was their right.

He knew Markus absolutely disagreed though. Their relationship was still young, but he and Connor had spent a lot of time together when it came to securing Jericho. And whenever Markus caught wind of whatever careless way Connor had thrown himself into action that day, Connor could count on the day’s second chew out from his boyfriend. It showed that the deviant leader truly cared about that stubborn jack-ass, and Hank was glad, but goddamnit, if one of the most persuasive and charismatic persons in the fucking country couldn’t convince Connor to be goddamn careful, than Hank didn’t know what was left for them to do.

Hank pulled up at the side of an abandoned looking street and stared at the blinking dot on his GPS for two more seconds before grabbing the radio and requesting back-up, just in case Connor did turn up with a struggling, unpredictable dealer in his grasp. Thank fuck he carried a tracker with him wherever he went, even after his own had been rendered useless after deviation. It made following him on these wild hunts a lot easier.

The alleyway was a lot darker than Hank would have liked. He reached for the gun in his holster, his grip steady, despite everything. He didn’t _really_ worry. His aim was still excellent, even more now that he hadn’t had the time yet to drink today. He could barely see anything though, which made aiming a hell of a lot more difficult. Eerie silence surrounded him as Hank hastily turned on his flashlight. The silence continued when he turned the corner where he knew his GPS had shown Connor’s tracker. A small blinking light indeed lay in a muddy puddle next to a rotting trash can. After shining his flashlight around the place and confirming that there was nobody around, Hank bent down to pick it up. It was definitely the tracker, but why? He half expected to see puddles of thirium all over the place, but there was nothing. No signs of struggle or violence, no sound to be heard. Connor and their suspect were long gone.


	2. Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sweet relief

0

By the time the DPD raided Andronikov’s mansion, it was almost three weeks later and most of it was being consumed by fire. Markus would later describe the situation as pure chaos, but right now, he had no words.

People were yelling, crying, screaming and for a moment, Markus felt like he was back on that forsaken sinking ship. He’d been the hero then, but now, he felt he was an outsider. Flames climbed higher and higher into the night sky and they showed no sign of stopping their devastating intent of destruction any time soon. Markus switched to his mind palace, partly to drown out the horrific sounds of despair, and partly so he could scan his surroundings. He looked over at Kara next to him and saw she was doing the same. But Markus figured that if he couldn’t find anything useful, neither would she.

Androids were still pouring out of the burning building; some of them being carried by firemen, others stumbling out on their own with dazed looks on their faces. A lot of them had been made to look like monsters and it took all Markus had not to flinch at the sight of some. It was clear that Andronikov had enjoyed messing with android physiology and Markus felt the dark pit deep within him grow deeper and deeper at what that meant. Kara had told them as much when she’d fled to the station, but to see it in person was a whole other ordeal. Markus felt her look over in his direction and when he looked back, he saw a sympathetic smile on her face. He also saw the tears brimming in her eyes, as hope was diminishing more and more.

“We need a technician over here!” Somebody shouted as they knelt next to a large android, who’d collapsed onto the ground. His skin had deactivated from the heat and he was taking in large gasps of air to try and cool himself down.

“Luther,” Kara whispered next to Markus and quickly moved to kneel next to the fallen android. Another android that looked like a technician joined them quickly and Markus forced himself to turn his eyes away.

The field behind the house was swarming with disoriented androids and emergency services. Markus had lost track of lieutenant Hank Anderson a while ago and he felt panic slowly gnawing at the edges of his mind. He refused to let it consume him, though. He was a leader, dammit.

He should act accordingly.

And so he took charge of what little he could. He started guiding some wandering, misshapen androids to safety, talked calmly to a lost looking YK500 and then made sure to move closer and closer to the burning building. The more he helped, the more seemed to wander his way. He tried to connect with them cybernetically to make it easier to direct them, but the thoughts and feelings and sheer amount of chaos that rushed into the stream made it nearly impossible for him to make himself be heard. So Markus made do with what he could, keeping the flaming mansion in his sight at all times.

At a little distance from the house sat a human man on his knees, his hands cuffed behind his back as he stared up at the burning building. His hair was greasy and covered in ashes and his dirty looking clothes were torn and fluttering around his torso.

He was laughing.

Markus felt a rush of anger when he realized who it was. He was about to go over to smack the bastard’s head in when somebody grabbed his wrist and yanked him back.

“Not now,” A gruff voice grumbled and Markus turned around to stare at Lieutenant Anderson. The man’s face was smeared with grime and Markus knew the man had been close to the fire despite safety protocols.

“Did you find-”

“No,” Hank broke him off, pulling him further across the backyard. “Most victims are too distressed to form a coherent sentence, let alone have a normal conversation. Some poor fuckers don’t even have a mouth to speak with. You know, I swear some of these androids just came walking out of a horror movie.”

Markus nodded slowly in understanding. Seeing some of the androids staggering around before sinking to their knees, reminded him of the android junkyard he’d been trapped in himself. The horror he had felt then was clearly visible on the tear-stained, wide-eyed faces of the deviants wandering out of the burning building. Some of them had crashed through first story windows in their rush to escape the fire. The grass was wet with thirium in some places and it made the dark pit deep within Markus grow and grow.

“This is the last part of the building we haven’t cleared,” Hank went on as he stood still and looked at Markus expectantly.

Markus stared back at him and it took an embarrassing amount of time to figure out what Hank wanted from him. “Right,” he mumbled eventually before turning on his scanner. RK-scanners were cutting-edge and if Markus could gather enough focus, he could detect signs of life from a hundred feet away. No androids were walking out of this side of the building though, and if the flames that were raging wildly inside were any indication, there was little hope. Still, Markus sent his scanner into and behind the walls, unsurprised, but feeling the swelling sense of defeat as he came up with nothing.

He shook his head haltingly and felt like the air had been punched out of him when he sagged to his knees. The fear that had been harshly pushed back so many times was crashing into him with a vengeance and he barely felt the steadying hand of the lieutenant on his shoulder as he brought his hands up to cover his face.

“We don’t know he was in there,” Hank said roughly. It was reasonable, but Markus was too caught up to really think straight right now. Less and less androids were making it out of the building; most of them seemingly lifeless and being carried out quickly.

They should have found him by now.

Markus removed his hands from his face and stared impassively at the two androids slung over a couple of firefighters shoulders. They had undoubtedly shut down. So had the next two. And the three after those. They were carefully laid out on the edge of the field, dignified by a sheet to cover their still faces. They were a lot.

Lieutenant Anderson was following Markus gaze and swallowed thickly after a few moments.

“No,” he refused, then turned around to march back to the building.

Markus followed him silently, the situation become more and more surreal to him with every second that passed by. It was like watching a broken ship go down while you were standing on the slippery quay, soaking wet and defeated. Like feeling your fellow deviants, your _friends_ , get shot before you, behind you, next to you and seeing them sink onto the snowy, thirium covered ground.

“Help! We need help here! He’s still alive!” A voice shouted frantically before coughing. Markus squinted, trying to see through the smoke now that he was so close to the house. His scanner zeroed him in on the two life signals and he sprinted towards them without a further thought. One was shaking with coughs, the other was fading quickly.

Three fire-fighter androids took over from the human one and removed the body from his arms, carrying it further away from the building quickly. In less than a millisecond, Markus knew it was Connor.

Or whatever was left of him.

Markus stood frozen for a few seconds, feeling his insides seize painfully at the realization, before he began a mad dash across the field in an attempt to keep up with the hurrying androids. He ran through flame and smoke, paying no mind to the yells and noises around him. The fire-fighter androids carrying Connor met up with a team of technician androids in a brilliant display of synchronized efficiency. They’d moved him onto a stretcher by the time Markus caught up with them. Instinctively, he reached out, placing a plastic hand on his boyfriend’s charred hairline. He concentrated, hoping for any type of connection whatsoever, but received no response.

“No,” he whispered, reaching down to grab Connor’s good hand instead and squeezing.

“Estimated thirium volume is at 24 percent,” a technician rattled off as they moved across the field in a rapid tempo. “Temperature at ninety degrees Celsius and climbing. He’s slipping into critical system failure. What’s his model?”

It took Markus two seconds before realizing she was asking _him,_ “RK800,” he mumbled.

The android technician’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly in recognition before her lips thinned with a stoic professionalism, “His ventilation is completely offline,” she turned towards her colleagues again, “We’ll need to start manual ventilation instead. Keep that thirium circulating at all costs. If he crashes, start compressing.”

Connor’s exposed plastic frame was almost completely covered in ash and grime. Some of his plates had been completely removed, leaving his reddened biocomponents vulnerable to the outside world. His right leg stopped at the knee, and the left was bent in a way that rendered it completely dysfunctional. His lower right arm had been removed at the elbow and if Markus could believe Kara, Zlatko did that to almost everybody that ended up on his table. Markus grimaced at the way he could see Connor’s thirium pump squeeze with frantic, but increasingly weak and erratic beats. The solid red light on his temple was fading to a darker shade with each failing compression. Markus pressed his fingers against it in a last desperate attempt at establishing a connection. _Come back to me,_ he whispered into the void, before being harshly yanked out of it when the stretcher was placed into the ambulance.

The doors slammed shut and the androids wasted no time as they signaled to the driver to move. Markus was left standing in the muddy field. He looked down and winced at the thirium that covered him. It felt like a dream when Lieutenant Anderson came up to him and demanded to know what happened. Markus kept shaking his head, not trusting himself enough to be able to explain. It wasn’t his blood, he let Hank know.


	3. Confidence

-20

Surprised, Connor skidded to an abrupt halt when he turned the corner in the alley. Logic, and now a good few months of experience suggested that suspects didn’t just disappear like this. He frowned, trying to tune in to his sensors the best he could. He heard the cars from a few miles away on the highway, felt the rain soak into his clothes and hair, but had completely lost track of his target.

He felt a familiar feeling of frustration bubble up in his chest and shook his head harshly to get rid of it. He wasn’t _supposed_ to lose track of targets. Hank wouldn’t be disappointed in him, he knew, but dammit, _he_ was. A deep sigh escaped him at the thought of having to turn back empty handed _and_ be cussed out by Hank for taking off like that. Sometimes, Connor didn’t understand the lieutenant. They had been waiting for almost four hours before any activity presented itself; but the moment the suspect had appeared in view and Connor had jumped up to go after him, Hank was already barking at him to _get his ass back here._ Given, Connor wasn’t a very patient guy to begin with, but four hours in a rusty old car with a doughnut devouring superior were not ranked high on his list of fun things. He’d survive Hank’s lecture, no doubt, but one day Hank was going to have to face the fact that he was just wasting his time.

Because Connor was _made_ for this. Quite literally, in fact. He’d heard humans claim to be _made_ for stuff, but it was usually a lie. They weren’t _made_ for anything. They’d take ages to perfect their skills and talents and even then, they could only hope for the best. Even then, they couldn’t even hold a candle to an android specifically _designed_ for a task. Danger was written into every little line of his code and Connor lived off of it as much as he lived off of the thirium coursing through his lines. Closing in on a fleeing suspect was thrilling and made him feel more alive than most other things in the world. It made him forget about everything else. Somewhere he knew that the one tracked, mission-focused mindset wasn’t good for him, but it was all he’d ever known for such a significant part of his life, that sometimes, he just couldn’t stop himself.

Stubbornly, he refused to let his pending task list change into the dreaded _mission failed_ prompt he’d despised since the first day he’d been activated. He turned around brusquely though, simmering, and stomped back the way he came from.

A shuffle behind him made him stop and turn again. By the time his eyes landed on the deviant’s face, it was already too late though. Strong, dark arms circled around his chest and lifted him up in the air. Connor made a strangled noise, his eyes widening in fear as the taser came in contact with the side of his neck. He seized, losing any and all control before darkness crashed down upon him to swallow him whole.

_-95_

_“-so cameras should be here, here, and right there. They’re synced up to the base terminal’s main frame and I have got a constant feed going that’ll alert me if there is anything suspicious going on. We need to make this new building as secure as possible. We may have reached a truce, but we’re- what?”_

_Connor feigned exasperation as he looked up at Markus’ wide smile. The deviant leader let himself slide off the desk he was sitting on and came closer. Connor’s finger was still pointing at the blueprint of the new Jericho building they were busy securing, but Markus quickly took his hand and dragged it away. “You’re pretty smart.”_

_“We’re working.”_

_“All work and no play make Connor a very dull boy,” Markus smiled, but pulled himself back to look at the blueprint as well._

_“I don’t know that reference,” Connor mumbled, studying the paper closely._

_“No matter,” Markus said cheerfully, “Glad you could come over to discuss this new building though. Goes a lot quicker if you’re here to look at it.”_

_“I had some time,” Connor commented with a grin, “Besides, I was designed with espionage and stealth protocols, excellent software for things like this.”_

_“Hmm,” Markus hummed, smiling as he pressed his lips to Connor’s, “it’s stuff like that that makes me wish you’d been part of us at the beginning.”_

_Connor pulled back and turned away as he looked down. A wavering moment of silence passed between the both of them. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled._

_Markus shook his head slowly, leaning in to try and get Connor to face him again, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”_

_Connor looked at him, smiling sadly, “I have a lot to be sorry for.”_

_Now it was Markus that pulled back and studied him. “You know,” he drawled, his mischievous grin reappearing, “We should go on a date.”_

_Connor’s eyebrows rose up, “I have never been on a date.”_

_“Neither have I,” Markus commented, leaning down for another kiss, “I heard it’s fun.”_

_Connor smirked as he kissed him back and nodded slowly. It had only been a week or two ago that Markus had taken the gamble to just straight up kiss him after a meeting. It had paid off, because Connor was pretty sure that he would have never been able to scrape up the courage and do it himself. But even he had sensed the growing attraction that had been building between the two of them. It had never gone further than some flirting and a few kisses at the office after that though, but apparently, now, there was a date. Connor had never flirted or kissed with anyone else, but he was very glad that it was Markus._

_“Where would we go?”_

_“It’d be weird to go to a restaurant, right?”_

_“Pretty weird,” Connor laughed, feeling and letting Markus loosen the tie around his neck._

_“Mm, I’ll think of something,” Markus said, preoccupied with something else. His hands started roaming over Connor’s chest as he kissed the side of his neck. Connor heard the desk chair creak beneath him as Markus shifted his weight to hover over him and pin him down where he sat. “We could go ballroom dancing-”_

_“No.”_

_“Or lake fishing,” Markus continued, unfazed._

_“Also no. That reminds me of lieutenant Anderson.”_

_“Well, we can’t have that.”_

_“Certainly not.”_

_“Like I said, I’ll think of something,” Markus smiled moving his mouth lower towards Connor’s collar bone, or the equivalent thereof. “In fact, I already have something in mind.”_

_Connor looked up at him skeptically, “What?” he asked, suspicious._

_“Hm, no,” Markus laughed, “It’ll be a surprise.”_

_“I’m not very fond of surprises,” Connor let him know, leaning his head back as he enjoyed Markus’ tender ministrations, “You can tell me, and then I’ll still act surprised when we get there.”_

_“Oh no, you are a terrible actor, Connor,” Markus laughed, the tremor of his voice vibrating against Connor’s plated ribcage. “It’ll ruin it for both of us.”_

_Connor looked down at him with a mock version of hurt on his face, “I don’t like surprises,” he repeated._

_Markus came up and gave him a wide smile, “Too bad,” he quipped, flicking Connor’s nose jokingly._

-20

He was fairly certain he was being carried somewhere. Connor’s senses agonizingly slowly returned to him, but he felt like he could barely move. The taser’s current had effectively maxed out his motor systems and every single muscle felt exhausted. Connor was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to escape anyway. The android carrying him was more than a head taller and certainly twice as broad. He held Connor tightly against his chest and a little more pressure and he would be _crushed like an empty beer can,_ as Lieutenant Anderson so eloquently had put it one day. So there was nothing else to do then letting himself be carried down into some dark basement and hope that the DPD would come bursting in sooner rather than later.

At least, for now.

Connor made sure to note down every single escape route he could think of and as soon as he would be giving even the least bit of leeway, he’d be out of here on his own, thank you very much. The place was giving him the ‘chills,’ as Hank had explained the feeling to him one time. They wandered down a few more steps and then rounded the corner into a small room.

An overweight, sleazy looking man looked up from his computer and observed them thoughtfully for a few moments, while Connor did the same to him. “You pick this one up from the streets, Luther?” the man asked incredulously.

“Yes, Zlatko,” the android called Luther answered obediently, “It was chasing Harold down.”

“That makes this possibly a police android,” Zlatko mumbled, getting closer for some more inspection, “Never seen one like this before.”

Connor wondered how much longer they were going to talk like he wasn’t there. “You won’t see me for much longer,” He said therefore.

“Very cocky,” Zlatko smiled and Connor immediately counted three missing teeth, “I like that.”

Without hesitation, Connor scanned his face. Zlatko Andronikov had been living on his own in this mansion on the outskirts of the city for a very long time. He had been arrested and imprisoned for embezzlement and fraud for a few years, but Connor could not detect any counts of abduction. Still, he got the creeping feeling that he was not the first that had been brought down here. “I’m sure you wouldn’t like to go to jail again.”

Zlatko’s eyes narrowed, then he burst out laughing, “Did you just _scan me_ and see my criminal record? That’s some fancy fucking shit you got going on in there,” He said, tapping a finger against Connor’s forehead, before turning around and settling behind his computer again. “Luther, put it on the rig so we can see what we actually got.”

Luther obeyed without question and hoisted Connor up on the platform beside them. A mechanical rod pierced uncomfortably into Connor’s neck port, which had exposed itself automatically in approximation of the rig. Connor almost felt betrayed by it. The machine was fairly old though and its software seemed almost primitive compared to Connor’s. It wouldn’t be a difficult task to overwrite its functions and-

“Holy fuck, it’s an RK!” Zlatko exclaimed, eyes wide as he stared at his screen, “A fucking new one too! You struck gold, Luther! This is way more impressive than the AX400s and PL600s you usually come home with.”

Luther refrained from making a comment and Connor couldn’t tell if the stoic android felt anything from the praise or not. Information flowed freely from Connor’s systems, through the rig and into Zlatko’s computer, but only because Connor let it. If he wanted any chance of making it out of here, he couldn’t let them know that he was in control.

Zlatko rose up from his computer to study Connor more closely; an expression of intense fascination on his face. “These things are so absolutely fucking rare. Hell, I don’t think there’s another out there. Should be worth a lot of money.”

Connor wanted to remind him that androids were considered people now, and that trading in them was punishable by law, but part of him figured that Andronikov was already aware of that. “Not very smart to abduct a detective of the DPD,” he commented instead.

“Oh, it’s got a fancy title and everything too,” Zlatko smiled maliciously, “Police not done playing with you yet?”

“I am officially employed,” Connor let him know with a snarl, “I get a paycheck every month.”

“They’re fucking ridiculous,” Zlatko shook his head, turning to look at the monitor on the side of the rig. “Anyway,” he said cheerily, “I think we’ve been talking enough. You RKs are infamous for your witty charm, I know that much. Too bad we’re gonna need to get rid of all of that.” Connor frowned, watching Zlatko turn his back to him to type in a few commands at his computer.

“Alright then, now that that’s started, I’mma head back upstairs. Luther, follow me and get some of the WR-models ready.”

“Yes, Zlatko.”

Connor watched in surprise as they both left the room. He thanked his fate that Zlatko did not seem to know what Connor’s model was capable of and seemed to underestimate him thoroughly. Too bad for him. He felt something tug at the back of his memory banks and rolled his eyes in exasperation. With a few blinks, he’d canceled the memory purge and let himself be lowered to the ground. He was still a little shaky on his legs, but he’d make it out just fine. He reached back, wincing just slightly as he pulled the offending cable out of his neck. This whole situation was stupidly ridiculous after all. He had to admit, they got him there for a while, with the way they’d gotten the jump on him in that dark alleyway. That had been concerning. Maybe there _was_ something to it when Hank said he needed to be more careful. Connor would need to contemplate that further at a later time.

For now, he quickly made his way through the basement, only stopping when he came to stand in front of a locked door to what seemed like a fabricated and old-fashioned prison cell. Inside were some horribly maimed androids, staring back at him with haunted, empty gazes. Some had no arms, or legs for arms, or arms for legs. One had a six foot long neck. Another was missing exactly half of their face. One girl with no eyes grabbed the bars of the door and dragged her face up close.

“Please, help us,” she hissed, the electronic reverb noticeable in every syllable.

Connor nodded quickly, trying to shake himself out of his stunned state. He unlocked the cell door, watching the androids shuffle, but staying in place. He nodded at them. A male android, or at least, Connor _guessed_ they were male, took a step forward. “He likes to play with us,” he whispered, as if in trance. “Creating monsters for his amusement. But who’s the real monster?”

“You’re free,” Connor assured, stepping aside from the door, “You can leave.”

“We may never leave,” the girl said hauntingly, “Oh no, we may never leave.”

Connor tore his gaze away, a disturbed shiver creeping up his spine. There were more cells, he could see. All filled with androids with the most grotesque appearances he’d ever seen. He continued his way through the basement, feeling their silent stares follow him. He climbed the steps to the ground floor slowly, contemplating his options. He could open the front door and get away. It would be easy. But if there were more androids in this building, they needed to get out. And the only way that could be done, was by taking down Zlatko.

Connor had once taken down seven armed guards in the span of two minutes. Not a feat he was proud of now. Alright, maybe a little. The point was that if anyone could _easily_ take Zlatko down, it would be him.

Luther was a different matter entirely though.

But Luther didn’t appear to be particularly fast, Connor mused as he crept up the stairs to the first floor, so maybe he could take that to his advantage. He paused at the top, pressing against the wall and letting himself be swallowed up by the shadows there. He preconstructed several options, each of them with a fair percentage of success. This shouldn’t be too hard.

He reemerged from the shadows, soundlessly stepping through the doorway on his right after having scanned the room quickly.

A strong arm once again wrapped around him; this time pressing against his throat and nearly cutting off his thirium supply. Luther, who had definitely been waiting for him on the other side of the doorway, pulled him off his feet to slam him against the wall roughly and kept his forearm right against Connor’s throat.

“You think I’m a fucking idiot?” Zlatko asked calmly from the other side of the room. He had pulled up his sleeves and looked at him with a smoking soldering iron in his hand.

Connor couldn’t answer, and he figured that it would be a bad idea to admit that yes, he had thought that actually. The torso of a female android was lying on the table, clearly deactivated. Zlatko was neatly soldering some fingers into the empty sockets of her eyes. What the actual f-

Luther picked him up, and Connor would feel embarrassed by his own lack of options as he was carried further inside the room, but he was too busy running preconstruction after preconstruction.

“See, I figured you’d probably be able to hack that piece of shit in the basement,” the man said while putting the soldering iron to the lifeless android’s face, “I gotta admit, I was… curious what you would do next. Of course, it was a big risk that you could have just walked out of the front door, but I guess my gamble paid off. Fancy piece of equipment like yourself wouldn’t be able to turn down a chance to investigate further, am I right?”

Connor panted, a rising sense of panic creeping up from within him as he struggled vainly in Luther’s grasp.

“This is Stephanie, by the way,” Zlatko smirked, pointing at his project on the table, “She’d say hi, but I’m fairly sure she’s no longer capable. You know, usually I’d sell androids to the highest bidder, or keep them for my own little experiments. I’m not quite sure what I’m going to do with you yet, though. You’re too valuable for either of those two options.”

“You’d better decide quickly then,” Connor spat, “I already called the DPD. They should be here in a moment.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Zlatko said, smiling as he stood up slowly, “I know there’s no reception here for androids to make any sort of connection to the outside world. Why do you think I’ve been able to keep this going for so long?”

“They will come for me,” Connor insisted, hating how his voice shook ever so slightly.

“Hm, sure,” Zlatko said condescendingly, “And I know in time I’ll figure out what your purpose will be. But until either of those things happen, we should have a lot of fun first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That sort of overconfidence, that's what's going to get you killed, Connor.


	4. Art of the Painter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope someone is still enjoying this story. If so, let me know. If not, then too :P
> 
> Cheers!

1

“Yeah, and the reason humans are so slow to pick up on this story is that it incriminates their kind even further and they are still the ones rolling most of the press, it’s-”

_“Yeah, but we can’t just force them to-”_

“It’s a disaster, Josh! If you were there, you could have seen-”

_“Yeah, but I wasn’t there. I’m sorry.”_

_“_ It’s alright, just make sure the story gets around Jericho, at least. Do we have enough shelter available for the deviants that escaped? _”_

 _“For the ones that made it out okay, yeah. Most of them are heavily traumatized, it’s a mess,”_ Josh sighed on the other side of the line and Markus could picture his friend dragging an exhausted hand over his face. Yeah, they _were_ in a mess right now, but it was a mess that a _human_ had caused, and Markus figured he was just mad that he wasn’t hearing about it on the news.

“They’ll need a lot of time,” Markus nodded sympathetically, “North still manageable?”

 _“Well, you know,”_ Markus heard Josh almost smirk, “ _She’s ready to wage war if you are._ ”

“Yeah, I’m just worried she’s ready to wage war regardless.”

“ _Always._ ”

“Alright, I will come by later today. Please make sure she doesn’t implode until then.”

“ _I will try,_ ” a brief pause, “ _How is Connor?_ ”

Markus stumbled slightly while busy pacing in the small room, “He’s… you know, he’s not good.”

“ _Fuck_.”

“Adequately put.”

“ _Fuck, I’m sorry.”_

“Yeah, still not your fault.”

 _“No, I know, but…”_ Josh was faltering, bless his soul, “ _He’s… You should stay with him._ ”

“But-”

_“I’ll manage it here. I’ll shove some stuff off on Simon, we’ll be fine.”_

“I know, it’s just,” Markus sighed, turning to look at Connor’s still form on the… well, he could barely call it a bed. “I feel like I’m gonna go crazy. It’s been almost a day and he hasn’t woken up. I’m starting to panic a little bit here.”

“ _You know he will, Markus,”_ Josh said, and he almost sounded confident, “ _I am aware none of us know exactly what he’s been through, but he will make it out okay. You know, being a ‘highly sophisticated, top of the line prototype’ and all that stuff.”_

Markus smiled at that. They’d both heard Connor’s tirade about not worrying about him because he was the ‘highly sophisticated, top of the line prototype’ around there more than enough times to quote him on it, apparently. “Yeah, I’m sure _he_ thinks he’s invincible.”

“ _And who are we to say he’s not?”_

Markus paused for a few moments. Connor certainly didn’t _look_ invincible right about now. He still had no ventilation going on of his own accord and Markus hadn’t seen him move at all for a full day now. And that just felt… so wrong. Connor was always moving, Markus had quickly learned. Fidgeting with his tie, cuffs, his coin; that deviant could not be still for a single second. Even in stasis, he’d move around endlessly, which many would probably find annoying, but Markus found endearing. The least bit of sound would have him awake and on high alert though, and that _did_ get a bit annoying. Right now, Markus would gladly fire off a canon next to him if it meant Connor would shoot upright and glare at him for all eternity. But, looking at the state of him now, Markus was fairly sure that wouldn’t happen. “I just… I don’t know.”

“ _I get too philosophical sometimes, I’m sorry,_ ” Josh said, his voice dripping with empathy, “ _What I meant is that Connor made it this far. It’s no use if we start to doubt him now._ ”

That sounded about as rational as anything Markus could think of, so he felt a little better, “Right. You’re right.”

“ _As I am always,_ ” He heard Josh smirk again. “ _Take care of him._ ”

Markus nodded softly, remembered Josh couldn’t see him, then cleared his throat to reply, “Yeah, I will. You take care of things over there.”

“ _You got it.”_

_-92_

_“Welcome home Markus, and –unknown model-,” a computerized voice said as they stepped through the door. Markus felt his cheeks get just a little warmer when he looked over and saw Connor’s eyebrows rise._

_“It’s not as easy as you think to program you into her old software.”_

_“It would appear so,” Connor grinned broadly, and then he looked up at the security camera at the end of the hallway, “I commend you for giving it your best attempt, Marilyn,” he said, bowing theatrically._

_Marilyn, whose sole purpose it was to greet people at the door with a disembodied voice, didn’t grace him with a reply. Markus shrugged when Connor looked back at him, still bowed. He couldn’t help but smile. Connor had loosened up a lot since the first day Markus had met him. Sure, those had been some very different times, but still. Markus had been afraid at one point that he’d never get to know the deviant that had effectively saved them all from almost guaranteed doom. He remembered Connor marching up to him with an army of thousands like it was something he did on most days. That Connor had no ambitions to take up an active leadership role when Markus offered it to him later had puzzled him. He never came to know what had had Connor so spooked those first few days after the war, but Markus had figured that becoming a deviant with that particular background, was enough to warrant some sort of adjustment period. Markus had made sure to mention that background as little as possible and in time, Connor had fitted right into their group, even if he stayed in the background most of the time._

_It was by the time they sat down in the living room that Carl made his presence known by dramatically rolling himself through the doors of the studio. “Studio’s all ready!” he exclaimed._

_Connor looked over at him in surprise and Markus quickly turned his face away. “It was already ready, Carl,” he muttered._

_“I know, you did a very fine clean up job in there,” Carl smiled widely as he wheeled himself closer to them, “Hasn’t been this tidy in years, I swear.”_

_“You have ruined the surprise,” Markus deadpanned._

_“I’ll still act surprised,” Connor reminded him cheerfully._

_“You must be Connor, then,” Carl said, turning to him, “Markus has told me so much about you.”_

_“He’s also told me a lot about you,” Connor replied with an amused smile._

_“Very talkative, that boy,” Carl nodded, “I hope he only mentioned my most bad-ass moments, though.”_

_“Oh, definitely.”_

_“So, I’d introduce myself, but I also know you can find out everything there is to know about me with just a look.”_

_“Oh, I would not do that unwarranted,” Connor lied._

_“I would.”_

_“Okay, I do too.”_

_“That’s perfectly fine in this case. Whatever I did in my wild young artist years is pretty much public record by now anyway.”_

_Connor smiled at him. Markus knew he liked it when people acknowledged his prototype software. “I’ll show you the studio,” Markus mumbled, tugging at Connor’s sleeve for him to stand up. Not even five minutes in and those two were already ready to team up against him, for crying out loud._

_“I’ll just be out here, waiting for James to show up and get me to physical therapy, then,” Carl called after them as Markus pulled Connor towards the studio doors._

_“My heart bleeds for you, Carl,” Markus called back._

_When the doors closed behind them, Connor stared at them for a moment longer, “He’s looking good.”_

_“Yeah, he’s quickly regained his strength,” Markus admitted, “And personality.”_

_“Wonderful,” Connor marveled before turning around and taking in the painting studio, “Very impressive,” he whistled. “So what are we going to do?”_

_“I thought I would give you an painting class,” Markus replied, pulling out an easel from the corner before looking around to find a decent sized canvas._

_Connor grinned as he watched him move around, his eyes following him intensely and his hands clasped behind his back, as was his standard, “I hope you like stick-figures.”_

_“Oh come on, you can do better than that.”_

_“No,_ you _can do better than that.”_

_“Have you ever painted before in your life?”_

_“Exactly my point.”_

_“Then how, no, then how do you know you can’t do it?”_

_“Yeah, I don’t have any paint programs.”_

_“Neither have I.”_

_Connor stared at him with disbelief, than shrugged. “Okay, got me there.”_

_“Here,” Markus said, planting two hands on Connor’s shoulders and maneuvering him in front of the canvas._

_“Alright, now what?” Connor mumbled as Markus shoved a paint brush and a palette he’d prepared earlier in his hands._

_“Close your eyes,” Markus said slowly._

_“Don’t I need to_ see _what I’m painting?”_

_“Can you shut up for a second?” Markus asked, his hands still on Connor’s shoulders. “Close your eyes, and imagine something that… doesn’t exist.” Saying something this irrational to Connor was bound to get a comment out of him, but he stayed silent, even if an amused smile tugged his lips upward. “Then take the paint and-”_

_“Make it exist?” Connor finished, his smiled widening even further._

_“Fine! You know what,” Markus said, removing his hands from Connor’s shoulders and throwing them up dramatically, “You do whatever you want over there with your lack of paint programs, and I’ll be over here making a masterpiece, thank you very much.”_

_“Oh please teach me, I beg of you,” Connor pouted jokingly._

_“No, that was your one shot, and you blew it,” Markus shook his head, walking over to the other side of the studio, “You have officially ruined the date.”_

_“I feel terrible,” Connor deadpanned._

_“Yeah, I bet you do,” Markus said as he walked over to the other side of the studio and grabbed his own canvas and brushes, “Have fun with your stick-figures.”_

_“My eyes are still closed,” Connor tried._

_“Great! Keep it up!” Markus called as he started on his own painting. He could hear Connor muttering to himself from time to time, but other than that, it was just their brushes on the canvasses that made any sound._

_“Alright, I have finished,” Connor declared, stepping back and tilting his head to inspect his work._

_Markus came over and looked at the mess of brown and black and white. “What’s… that?”_

_“Sumo!” Connor exclaimed, indignant. “Maybe it needs some work.”_

_“Yeah,” Markus muttered, squinting to try and distinguish anything that could look like a dog, “You did paint this with your eyes closed, didn’t you?”_

_Connor shoved him aside. “I bet you can do much better.”_

_“As a matter of fact,” Markus mumbled, grabbing Connor’s hand and a brush and dipping it into the white paint, “There,” he said, drawing it over Connor’s skin as a small idea started to form in the back of his mind, “Head, ears, tail and legs, it’s not that hard.”_

_“What did you make?” Connor asked, pulling his hand back and walking over to Markus’ side of the studio._

_Connor halted halfway and stared for a few seconds. “It’s Jericho,” he muttered._

_Markus came up next to him, “It’s where we met.”_

_“Yeah,” Connor acknowledged, but his tone had shifted._

_Markus bit his bottom lip, his eyes wandering around the studio. Connor didn’t like to talk about his past, and this was coming pretty close to it. Markus looked at the small white and brown dog on Connor’s hand, and then at the color palette still in his own hands. “Remove your skin.”_

_Connor turned to look at him slowly, baffled. “What?”_

_Markus’ eyes widened a little, struggling to come up with a good explanation, “Well, I mean, I- you could be my canvas. I mean… just an offer. I get it if you don’t want to.”_

_Connor observed him for a moment and Markus felt like sinking through the floor. Asking another deviant to remove their skin was a pretty risky move. The idea seemed to whirl inside of Connor’s head for a few more long seconds before he nodded thoughtfully, “I should remove my blouse first then.”_

_“What? Why?”_

_“I want it on my back,” Connor shrugged as he turned and pulled the blouse over his head. His light, freckled skin was on full display in the well-lit studio before it slowly flowed away and revealed the white plastic plates underneath. Markus touched them gently before picking up his brush._

_“What do you want me to make?”_

_“Make it a garden,” Connor said resolutely._

1

“You never told me what that garden meant,” Markus muttered, following the faded painted swirls on the back of Connor’s shoulders with his finger. In time, it would fade entirely. This type of paint on plastimetal was not meant to last forever. “I wonder if you ever will,” he sighed, dropping his hand on the padded area of the table next to Connor’s head and lowering his chin to rest upon it.

Connor didn’t reply. Of course he didn’t. The only sounds in this forsaken room were the quiet beeps and alerts on the monitors. Some things blue, some things still red. It showed that Connor was hanging on, but no more than that. Heat and fire had warped some of the plating underneath the painting on his back and neck and skin had yet to regenerate over most parts of his body. Markus was almost glad that Connor was unconscious since the beginning, because it looked like a world of hurt. But what wouldn’t he give for his boyfriend to open his eyes? He’d gladly have Connor wake up to yell at him for not finding him sooner. For letting someone do these horrible things to him that Markus might not exactly _know_ , but that must have been absolutely horrifying.

It wasn’t _fair._

It wasn’t fair that Connor now couldn’t even _breathe_ on his own. That he had to rely on healing programs, rather than replacements. It would take 48 hours before technician were even confident enough to suggest he had a chance of pulling through. Connor had to have _eight_ circuits completely replaced because they burnt through, and because there was no RK800 hardware lying around anywhere, they had to make do with what they did have. It would be functional, they said, but certainly not optimal. They were lucky his system had accepted them even for the 65%. His right arm had been replaced, but his leg was still missing. His other leg was braced and held steady with a splint. His biocomponents were no longer visible and were slowly turning back to their original blue color after his thirium volume was being replenished with a measured out drip. In time, he would be back to a hundred percent, but they had to go slow, so that his system could get used to running on more than 24 percent.

The most concern was focused on his processor, though. Blood had started to pour out of Connor’s nose and ears shortly after he’d arrived at the clinic. They’d detected a large thirium leak in his central processing unit, likely caused by the high core temperature, and lack of proper circulation. Markus had been scared to death when they’d ushered him out of the room, the image of Connor’s bloodied face sticking by him for the next two hours before technicians came to tell that chances of permanent processor damage were nearly guaranteed.

Dammit, it sucked.

Markus focused his attention on Connor’s recorded heart-rate on the monitor. It was a bit faltering, but continued on nevertheless. “I love you,” he whispered, pressing his face to the side of Connor’s, trying to make a connection as he squeezed his hand. “I’ll wait,” he promised. It was as simple as that.

_-92_

_“The master, is done,” Markus announced, letting his brush drop on the side table for emphasis._

_Connor looked up from where he’d been sitting still for the entirety of ninety minutes. “I won’t accept anything less than a masterpiece,” He warned._

_“Too bad you can’t wash it off with water,” Markus grinned maliciously._

_“If there is anything other on my back than what I ordered, we are done going on dates.” Connor declared for about the sixth time that evening._

_“Alright, I’ll show you the picture,” Markus said, sending a screenshot over their line. Connor was silent for a moment, his jaw tensing and his expression stiffening._

_“You don’t like it, do you?” Markus muttered, “I mean, I tried to make it as you described it to me, which, by the way, would definitely send Carl up the walls.”_

_“No, it’s… it’s beautiful.”_

_“Does that mean we get to keep going on dates?”_

_“I would like that,” Connor said, stepping forward and kissing Markus’ lips. “At least two more.”_

_Markus laughed as Connor wrapped his arms around him, “Two entire dates?”_

_“I still can’t draw a dog,” Connor said, shrugging as he rocked them both from left to right. “Or do you already think I’m a lost cause?”_

_“Mm, not at all,” Markus replied._

_“Good, cause I’m thinking I just need practice.”_

_He wasn’t entirely sure how they ended up staring up at the glass ceiling. Despite the rain that day, some stars were still visible through the dark clouds. “Do you ever wonder what happens to androids after they shut down?” he asked._

_“No,” Connor said._

_“Because at the end of the day, we’re just data, right?” Markus wondered._

_The android next to him gave a deep sigh, “It’s probably pretty busy in android heaven.”_

_“We survived though.”_

_“Yeah,” Connor muttered, “We survived.”_

_Markus looked over at him. There was still a stripe of white paint on Connor’s brow. He reached over to rub at it. Connor followed his movement with his large brown gaze. “You know, you still got some on your cheek too.”_

_“Feel free,” Markus mumbled._

_“I think I’m starting to fall in love with you.” The words seemed to tumble out of Connor before he knew what he was saying, judging by the stunned expression on his face._

_“Good,” Markus said as he leaned towards him and kissed the side of his mouth, a warm feeling swelling in his chest, “Me too.”_


	5. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, your comments are feeding my soul, so keep them coming please ^^
> 
> Thanks!

-18

Connor wasn’t quite sure that Zlatko knew he was awake. The creep was whistling an off-key tune cheerfully while moving around the table Connor was strapped down on. By Luther, of course. Zlatko barely did anything himself. Not unless it involved a soldering iron, it appeared.

While Connor contemplated whether he should let his consciousness be known, Zlatko finally sat down to look at his computerscreen.

“I know you’re awake, RK800,” he said, “That processor speed of yours, damn. People commit murders for that type of stuff, you know.”

“I know,” Connor said darkly.

“Of course you know,” Zlatko grinned, “You little detective, you. You probably saw lots of broken robots. I’m a little jealous, you know. I find it gives me a… kick.”

Connor grimaced, tugging at the bands around his wrists and ankles. “You’re a fucking monster,” he spat.

“Oh, from head to toe, certainly,” Zlatko smiled, “I gotta say, it feels so liberating to be able to admit it. You should try it.”

“You make so little sense,” Connor sighed. He found that maybe, if he concentrated enough and Zlatko wasn’t watching; he could use his strength to break the restraints and free his arms and legs. But then what? Zlatko wasn’t fast enough, but there was still the Luther problem standing by the door.

“I did a little bit of research yesterday,” Zlatko murmured in a low voice, like it was important that only Connor could hear him, “You’ve got quite the reputation for a brown-nosing detective. Been a time you would have been just as happy capturing a live deviant as me, right?”

Connor stiffened and his face twitched, “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Maybe not, maybe for different reasons, but I was quite impressed by what I read.” Zlatko said it like it was a compliment, “You made one of them commit selfdestruction right in the fucking police station? Holy fuck, man!”

Connor let his head fall back with a sigh and closed his eyes, “That’s behind me.”

“Yeah, no, I know, you had one fucked up purpose, man,” Zlatko commented happily, “Good for you that you could put that behind you so easily. It’s been what? Six months?”

Connor chose not to reply, keeping his eyes closed while one of Zlatko’s housekeeping androids came and delivered his meal. The smell of grease was bound to enrage Connor even further. “What exactly do you want from me?”

“Isn’t us keeping each other company enough?”

“If I’m judging by the state of the androids in the basement, apparently not.”

“It’s a good thing I have a high tolerance for snarky androids, you know,” Zlatko mused, “In fact, I find it endearing.”

“Great.”

“Yeah, had you been boring, you would have probably already lost your arms and legs.”

It was comments like that, that made Connor’s pump beat a little faster. He had no intention of losing his arms and legs and tested the restraints around his wrists once more. Time was apparently of the essence. He didn’t want to end up with fingers instead of eyes, like Stephanie. Or with only being the top half of an android, like Stephanie. Basically, he didn’t want to end up like Stephanie. Zlatko started whistling again, rummaging through a box of tools.

“You know, half of these, I don’t even know what they do,” Zlatko smiled down at him. He held what looked like two prongs in his hand, wiggling it towards Connor suggestively. “See, I just improvise. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Let’s hope, for your sake, that it does.”

The prongs came closer and closer. Magnetized, Connor realized when they came close enough. He saw himself transform into Stephanie and he yanked at his binds hard, feeling both his wrists and the restraints break as he slammed his forehead against Zlatko’s while the man was leaning over him.

Zlatko stumbled back, grabbing his head with a loud groan and double over. Connor sat up quickly, undoing the straps around his ankles. In his periphery, he noticed Luther already coming closer. After a flash second preconstruction, Connor rolled himself off the table, landing on his knees and forearms before scrambling to his feet.

“Luther!” Zlatko growled, a hand still to his now bleeding brow.

Connor paused for a moment; time slowing down as his mind ran miles a second. Luther was standing between him and the door. He didn’t doubt that he could take on the giant android, but the pain that was flaring up his wrists was definitely telling him not to use his hands, and that was problematic. The window then, maybe? They were only one story up, but Connor hadn’t exactly had the time to check what was directly beneath it. It was a risk worth taking though. And it wouldn’t be the first window he’d broken.

He ran towards the large window, slamming his elbow into the glass with enough force to break ten windows and felt it shatter around him. He stumbled, grabbing onto the jagged edges around the hole in the glass. His hands seemed to be made of pain right about now and it took everything he had not to clutch them to his chest and press himself against a wall.

A large figure appeared next to him and Connor realized that unlike him, Luther was still just an android. He didn’t feel pain. And that made him a lot faster than Connor had anticipated. Luther grabbed his wrist with his own now bloodied hand and tugged him back inside the room. Connor cried out before being slammed onto the ground by the android’s brute force. He was pinned once more, face down into the broken, sharp edges of the glass on the floor. They dug into his face and limbs, but it felt like nothing compared to the crushing weight of 336 pounds of Luther on top of his back. The giant android’s knee had secured itself solidly against Connor’s spine, leaning in with his full weight and not needing to do anything else to keep him on the ground.

“Put him back,” Zlatko hissed venomously, “And fucking hold him down.”

Connor was placed roughly back on the table, breathing harshly as Zlatko loomed over him once more. The man’s expression had changed into pure malice, blood dripping from his forehead onto Connor’s cheek, who tried to twitch away.

“You’re a fucking menace,” Zlatko spat, wiping at his brow before he nodded at Luther. Without needing further instruction, Luther drew back and punched Connor squarely right below his left eye. The deviant’s head was forced sideways from the blow, but he made sure not to give any other outward sign of pain.

“Didn’t hurt, huh?” Zlatko growled dangerously. Luther moved towards the end of the table. “That was fucking disrespectful. Seems almost like you fucking deviants forgot how to fucking _obey_ your masters.”

Connor kept staring at him with narrowed eyes. “I’ve dealt with bigger maggots than you,” he grumbled darkly, “You don’t scare me.”

“Oh yeah?” Zlatko nodded, gesturing an order to Luther, “Well, you don’t know what I can do.” Connor frowned at him, then yelled out as Luther grabbed his lower leg with two hands and bent it double like it was nothing more than a twig.

“I can do things to you that you cannot even imagine,” Zlatko growled, his face close to Connor’s. “You will scream, and you will cry, and you will _break._ They always break.”

“And still you _keep_ talking,” Connor hissed.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” Zlatko assured him, “Half the fun is watching them crumble apart mentally. Make no mistake, RK800, you will die here. And you will beg for death, but you won’t get it until _I’m_ done. Because _I’m_ the one that’s fucking in control, is that understood?”

Whatever mixture of analyzing fluid and thirium was in his mouth, Connor spat towards Zlatko’s face, who wiped it off with a stoic expression. “Good. I like a challenge. Luther, you know what to do.”

_-87_

_Riverside Park was mostly abandoned this late in the evening, and Connor had counted on that. Even now, two months after the revolution, androids were very much still a target in public places. People tended to shun them by walking around them in large circles. Some were even openly aggressive towards them, yelling slurs and even shoving them around from time to time._

_The middle of winter was exceptionally cold, Connor had quickly learned. He’d developed an annoying aversion against the cold over the past two months. He remembered a blizzard biting into his skin, blinding his sight and howling a voice of betrayal and shoved his hands further into the deep pockets of his second-hand winter jacket. He knew his LED was permanently stuck on yellow –at best- in this type of weather, but he couldn’t really care who saw him here._

_Sumo, behind him, didn’t seem to give a fuck about the weather. He sniffed at the merry go round for a few seconds before lifting his hind leg on it._

_“Ah dammit, Sumo,” Connor whined, tugging the large dog along and hoping that that particular incident was not seen by anyone else._

_“Yeah, I saw that,” a voice said and Connor turned around quickly, then sighed in relief as he watched Markus trudging towards them._

_“Took you long enough,” Connor commented._

_“I always arrive when I arrive,” Markus replied before enveloping him in a hug. Connor felt warmth spread immediately throughout his body and leant into the embrace._

_“That’s saying exactly nothing,” he smiled._

_“So,” Markus said, pulling back and Connor missed him instantly. “This is the big Sumo monster you keep going on about?”_

_“Yeah,” Connor nodded, “He’d say hi, but he’s too busy doing, you know, that…” he gestured towards the dog, which was now pawing at a large heap of snow._

_Markus squatted and stuck out a hand, “Come here, Sumo.” Sumo regarded him lazily for a moment, then decided it was useful enough to come over and sniff at the android’s hand. Markus got to scratch him behind the ears for a second before Sumo’s attention was caught by a garbage can on the edge of the path and he walked away._

_“All hail king Sumo,” Markus smiled._

_Connor snorted, “Considering where he’s heading, he’ll probably need another bath tonight.”_

_“And you would absolutely_ hate _that.”_

_“Hey, I like dogs.”_

_“I know you do,” Markus smiled warmly, wrapping an arm around Connor’s, which was still shoved halfway into his jacket as they started walking along the path. “Why do you like dogs?”_

_Connor paused, tilting his head in consideration, “I don’t really know. Might have been programmed in.”_

_Markus laughed, throwing his head back, “Hey, we don’t say that anymore, remember?”_

_“Right,” Connor snickered, remembering Josh’s speech, “We’re supposed to say it’s part of our_ nature. _”_

_“Exactly.”_

_“There’s nothing_ natural _about being programmed though.”_

_“Doesn’t matter.”_

_“I suppose not.”_

_They walked further and Connor forgot about the cold more and more until Markus asked, “Are you okay?”_

_“What?”_

_“You’ve been shivering.”_

_“I’m okay.”_

_“I’ve never seen an android_ shiver _before.”_

_“You haven’t?”_

_“No.”_

_“Well, I am the most advanced prototype ever created by Cyberlife.”_

_“Oh wait,” Markus stopped, holding up a hand as he froze half-stride, “I_ think _I have heard you say that before. It’s kind of vague, I don’t know.”_

_“Oh, you’re funny.”_

_“But it’s serious,” Markus pressed on, “We can withstand temperatures akin to polar expeditions without discomfort, so what gives?”_

_Connor shrugged, looking back at Sumo to try and deflect, “I just_ really _don’t like the cold.”_

_“Is that also part of your nature?” Markus drawled._

_Connor looked at him, inwardly cursing himself for letting his expression stiffen. He could_ never _tell Markus what had made him dislike cold and snow so much. But if he could never talk about it, than what was their relationship built on? Where could they go from here if there was always that little voice in his head –female and familiar, but not her, not her, never her, couldn’t be her- that said that he could have so easily put a bullet in the back of Markus’ head that night._

_Would they ever have any chance?_

_He realized he’d taken too long to answer and concern started to spark into Markus’ two-colored eyes. “Connor?”_

_“Yeah, no, I don’t know,” Connor said as a means of an answer. He hated himself in that moment. He lied to himself, to Markus, he’d probably lie to Hank too if the man asked about it. But admitting the truth would make things so much more complicated. And Connor felt like he’d had enough complicated to last him a lifetime._

_“Alright.” Markus didn’t seem convinced, but dropped the subject nevertheless, “Dog seems to love it enough for the both of you.” Connor watched Sumo roll around in a particular large patch of snow and felt jealous. He wished he could be that carefree. The thought of drenching himself in snow was making him shiver even more noticeably though so he quickly turned away._

_“Okay,” Markus decided, “Let’s go inside somewhere where it’s warmer.”_


	6. Heaven for Androids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoy writing this story and the feedback I'm getting on it. I could probably write an entire essay on the themes I want to explore and what goals I have in mind for the characters, but nobody got time fo reading that. In any case, I do want to hear your opinion as a reader and where you're hoping this story is gonna go. :D
> 
> Cheers!

_-80_

_Markus liked to believe he was moving on well with his life. Jericho was starting to flourish and people generally seemed to like him. He felt like he was able to help people and that, for all intents and purposes, was what he’d been made for. His days were long, and work was hard, but it was rewarding, and it brought him purpose._

_Still, there were times he felt just as ill-adjusted to regular life as he had in the beginning. Those were the times he was alone up in his quarters at Jericho and he started to think. Where was he going? What else needed to be done? So much, but was he the right person to do it still? Should he carry over the baton and let someone else take the wheel. Josh was way more suited for politics than he was, but still Josh looked to him for leadership still. Everyone did._

_Except for Connor._

_Connor was never there to demand things of him. He just seemed to like being around Markus, not leader Markus, just… Markus Markus. It was like a breath of fresh air in closed off room that was quickly becoming stale. Connor was also never there for the ins and outs of Jericho. He just came over, did some Security Stuff, and then he would leave again._

_It was the leaving part that Markus hated the most. Connor refused to stay at Jericho for longer than a couple of hours and after he left, Markus felt empty. He usually shrugged it off. Connor had just a busy a schedule as he did, maybe even more. He was busy catching bad guys, Markus told himself. He was busy protecting the deviant side of the law._

_“What are you thinking about,” Connor’s thoughtful question sounded genuinely inviting. Markus looked over at him on the couch and saw the raised eyebrows and tilted head and knew that this was Connor’s ‘attentive face’._

_“I’m- We- Well, it’s complicated.”_

_“Does it involve feelings?” Connor asked with a face like he’d bitten in something sour._

_“Yes.”_

_“Challenging. Can I pull a logic card to counter?”_

_“Possibly.”_

_“Then I’m in.”_

_Markus smiled, letting his hand glide over the backs of Carl’s old books. He loved being in this house. Sure, Jericho felt like home, but this was where he came from. He read the covers as he walked past them. Most of them were on art history. “I think I’m starting to have second thoughts on being Jericho’s leader.”_

_“Oh,” was what Connor replied. He clearly did not see it coming._

_“I mean, it’s a great honor,” Markus said quickly, “But it’s also-”_

_“Stressful?”_

_“Yeah,” Markus sighed, letting himself fall onto the couch next to Connor. “I don’t know if I’m the right person for the job.”_

_“You saved all of them,” Connor pointed out._

_“I also led so many of them to their death,” Markus muttered softly._

_“What? No,” Connor argued, sitting up a little straighter and definitely already coming up with two hundred reasons for that statement being false. “You didn’t shoot anybody, did you?”_

_“I-,” Markus started, looking at his boyfriend curiously, “No, no, I didn’t.”_

_“Then I’m right.”_

_Markus watched him skeptically. It wasn’t that black and white, surely. “I just.. Sometimes I feel like a hypocrite, I guess.”_

_“Why?”_

_After a moment of hesitation, Markus decided that this was his boyfriend; and he should be able to tell him anything. And then it would be alright. “You know I mentioned I was shot by the police that one time?”_

_Connor nodded; his expression attentive and encouraging. Markus made a fleeting mental note about how his boyfriend could be very open, as long as it didn’t involve his own feelings. He pushed that quickly aside though. “They dumped me in this big junkyard,” He went on, already feeling his heart hammer quicker thinking back on that memory._

_“Right,” Connor whispered, “I read that case file.”_

_“Great,” Markus mumbled, “I’m a case file.”_

_“You know what I mean,” Connor said quickly, shaking his head, “Forget what I said.”_

_“Well, I- I woke up and I… well, I didn’t have any legs,” Markus started stammering. He realized he’d never really spoken these words out loud. He’d alluded to it in some of his speeches, but then it had always had this… poetic weight. Like it was meant as nothing more than an illustration. This felt rawer, like a confession. “And I could barely hear or see or remember.”_

_“That sounds awful,” Connor mumbled._

_“It was_ horrifying, _” Markus said, his voice shaking. “And I was so, so scared.”_

_“I never really realized you went through that,” Connor admitted in a low tone, “How did you escape?”_

_“You- I’m…” Markus didn’t know if he could continue. It was his biggest failure. Not even deviant for more than a few hours, and he’d already blown it. “I was panicking, and I-I, I don’t know, I couldn’t_ think! _”_

_“Woah, hey,” Connor reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. It felt good. Steadying. And with a deep breath, Markus could finally let it out._

_“I just_ took _what I needed.”_

_Connor’s face didn’t change, and Markus was glad for that. He’d expected to see darkness or judgment or rejection, or all of them. But Connor only nodded at him to continue._

_“There were so many of them out there. Still alive. Or somewhat alive. They cried and yelled and it was what I imagine hell would be like,” Markus whispered, feeling like the words came automatically now. Like they weren’t really his, “I found two legs that were lying around, but I had to steal the rest. And they were so- they were so desperate. But so was I! I wanted to get out of there more than anything; that was all I knew. And I couldn’t do it without those parts, so-”_

_“It’s okay,” Connor said. That was all he said._

_“These legs, this eye, hell, even this regulator… it’s not mine. It doesn’t feel like mine,” Markus said. And that was really it, wasn’t it? “How can I continue to be a leader, if half of me is stolen parts?”_

_Connor didn’t say anything for a long moment and for a fraction of a second Markus was afraid that his boyfriend wouldn’t have all the answers, “Is the junkyard still there?”_

_“I think so?”_

_“Then you know what to do.”_

_“What?”_

_“These people are only half-alive, like you said. They gain no benefit from getting their regulator back. But we can give them something better, I think.”_

_“We can give them peace,” Markus finished._

_“A heaven for androids,” Connor nodded solemnly._

6

_“-and the weather is particular cloudy today at 68 degrees. It’s been a cold spring season so far, don’t you agree, Bernadine?”_

_“Certainly Clarence, but we might be looking at some higher temperatures later this week, where a high front comes in from the south-east and takes us-”_

Whatever Bernadine was going to say next was cut off by the remote in Hank’s head. “Shut the fuck up, Bernadine,” he mumbled.

“Hank still uses a remote,” Markus informed Connor. Connor’s hand twitched. Markus smiled. He wasn’t quite sure that Connor could hear him, but he had to keep a positive mind about these things. From the foot of the makeshift bed, Sumo let out a deep sigh, like he was finally back where he belonged. Connor had been twitching a lot the past two days. He’d even managed to roll over to his side at one point. Nothing the technicians wanted to call ‘conscious behavior’ yet, but Markus liked to think that it was progress. Seeing his boyfriend breathing certainly was.

He reached over and circled his fingers lightly around Connor’s wrist, trying for the umpteenth time to establish a connection. A lot of static and interference greeted him, intermingled with some unintelligible sounds and flashes of color. It wasn’t quite the dark void he’d been pleading into previously, but it still wasn’t anything he could make sense of either.

“You getting anything?” Hank asked, just like he normally did.

“He certainly likes to flash the color orange to me a lot,” Markus shrugged, “Whatever that means.”

“You mean y’all don’t have special color codes to communicate and stuff?” Hank asked sarcastically.

“How would that even work?”

“You’re the android, not me.”

“You make so little sense.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m the human, if I may believe mister fancy-pants over there.”

Connor twitched again. It seemed deliberate.

“I know you agree with me that Hank makes little sense,” Markus grinned, squeezing Connor’s hand softly. Connor squeezed back; the skin slowly receding from his hand. A flash of orange again. And a muffled, cut-off sound.

“Connor?” Markus sat up a little straighter.

“What? What is he doing?” Hank demanded, following Markus movements.

Markus ignored him, trying to put all his focus into the unstable connection, “Connor, can you hear me?” He called over their line, feeling like he was almost getting swallowed up by the waves of static bombarded his way. It was clear that Connor sensed _something._ “Can you follow my voice?”

In the physical world, Connor’s hand around his had tightened. And even Hank could see that. “Godammit, what’s happening?”

Markus would feel sorry for him being left out, but he had more urgent matters to tend to. A howling sound in his ears made him wince. Sharp needles prickled over his skin. A feeling, like he was getting sucked in. Then darkness. Not like the empty void from earlier. Dark blue. Like a night sky without stars. And cold. So very, intensely cold. Not like anything he’d ever felt before. The static turned to snow, the howls became wind. He was standing on a frozen pond. A blue, glowing light in the dark.

_Go to it! Go to it! There’s gotta be a way! It’s the way out! Do it! Ignore her! Touch it! Free it!_

Whispers. Haunting, but familiar. Through the reverb and deformation, Markus could just detect the slightest sliver of Connor. He looked around wildly, feeling like his insides were quickly freezing up as the wind blasted snow into his face.

_Connor!_

No sight of him. The whispers intensified until they were scrambled and unintelligible. One word remained. _Blue._

Markus reached out, stumbling and shuddering and definitely crying if his tears wouldn’t freeze as soon as they came out.

 _Blue,_ he said. _Okay, blue. What else?_

 _Blue,_ was the only answer.

_I don’t understand!_

Words were jumbled up, then paused. The wind stopped howling, but continued blowing. Then, half a second later, it came back full force. Markus winced.

_Connor, help me!_

A desperation seemed to take hold of him. The blue light glowed brighter and brighter, like it was the only thing living in this entire place.

_Escape._

A simple direction, really. He was so close. He looked down at his hands. They were a lot paler and he recognized the jacket, but knew it wasn’t his. Fear enveloped his entire being when he stumbled and fell, not half a step away from his goal. He reached out above him, splaying a hand out on the blue surface.

_He blinked at the gun in his hand and then quickly turned it back to the waistband of his jeans._

And then, with a quick gasp, he was back in the room. Sound came back to him slowly; alarms and voices. Markus was too stunned to notice the flurry of commotion right away. Sumo whined loudly, not understanding, and Markus shared that sentiment with him for a moment. Then he saw Connor. His head was pressed against the pillows Hank had gathered from home and brought over. His back was slightly arched and he was groaning. His fluttering eyelids didn’t focus on anything, but Markus knew this was different from the seizures he’d had in the beginning.

Connor was panicking.

Markus sprung up, trying to ignore the lingering dizzy haze in his mind as he gripped Connor’s upper arm tightly and brought a hand to his hair. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” Markus promised, hoping that Connor could hear him, or even understand him. His hands raked through Connor’s hair in short, quick strokes as he focused on his boyfriend’s frantic eyes.

“Nnn-”

“Stresslevels are critical,” somebody announced and Markus looked up at a damning 93%. Connor was growing warming under his hands and Markus didn’t know what to do. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his brow, hoping with all his might that there was something there that Connor would recognize.

The levels dropped agonizingly slowly, but they dropped. When they were no longer considered dangerous, Markus let himself drop back in his seat with a long sigh. Sumo gave another whine, looking at Hank for guidance and Connor opened his eyes.


	7. Keep it In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoop, sorry for the delay. I had school stuff to take care of.

-12

Connor shivered involuntarily as the scissors inched closer to his temperature regulator, but made sure to keep completely still otherwise. The smug grin on Zlatko’s face told him that the human had noticed anyway.

“Wanna see what happens if I poke this?” the man challenged.

“Do your worst,” Connor growled.

“See, it’s with comments like that,” Zlatko murmured, slowly burrowing the scissors under the protective seal of the biocomponent, “That I’m starting to think you actually enjoy this.” Alerts and warnings swarmed Connor’s vision and a white hot sensation flooded his abdomen. He stiffened, clenching his one remaining hand into a fist. He refused to make a sound. Zlatko kept looking at him, instead at what he was doing as he dug the blunt, rusted tool further into Connor. Connor kept looking right back at him.

“See, I have a theory, and I know you like theories,” Zlatko went on, carefully wiping away the collected thirium around the blades, “I think some people _actually_ enjoy pain. It makes them feel alive, you know, if nothing else will.”

“Are you one of those people?” Connor grunted, “Cause I think you’re projecting.”

“Right back at ya’,” with a wide grin. “Never thought me and a deviant would be so alike. Hell yeah, I enjoy pain. On myself, on others, doesn’t matter.”

“You sick fuck,” Connor muttered, letting his head fall back on the cold table. He knew Zlatko wouldn’t go as far as to fatally damage his regulator. That would render his plaything useless, and Zlatko was apparently having too much fun to go that far yet. It wasn’t like you could just put any old regulator in a RK800 model either. But the past eight days, Connor knew Zlatko was testing the limits. He noticed it in the way his components would blink in and out of functionality sometimes. He wondered if Zlatko knew.

“We’re all a little bit twisted here, aren’t we?” Zlatko said, putting the seal back in its original place, “Joey over there in the bathtub would definitely agree, but I’m afraid he’s been stuck saying the same thing for years now.”

Connor knew. God, did he know. Joey went on and on. Day and night. _You must always obey the master._ Connor wished he’d shut up, but Joey never did. “You did that to him.”

“I did, I broke him,” Zlatko nodded, tongue sticking out of his mouth as turned his scissors to the next biocomponent, “He was so fucking scared. It was hilarious.”

“Why didn’t you just kill him?” Connor sighed, feeling the blades touch his ventilator and wincing.

“That’d be merciful, wouldn’t it?” Zlatko muttered. “Are you afraid to die?”

Connor had been asked that before. He hadn’t quite known the answer back then. Death was… undesirable, but not necessarily something to be afraid of. “No.”

“Interesting,” Zlatko grinned, “What are you afraid of then?”

Connor’s breath hitched as Zlatko stuck the scissors between the blades of his ventilator, “Losing control.”

“You must be real scared then,” the man mumbled, wiggling the scissors a bit, “You’ve got no control here.”

“I’ve had worse,” Connor mumbled, his voice distorting without proper airflow.

“Hard to believe,” Zlatko said, pulling the scissors out slowly.

“You have no idea.” Sure, Connor had never been missing an arm and a leg like he was now, but at least his body still responded to his own commands. It was only him in there, no one else. He kept telling himself that. Day in and day out. Ever since the revolution.

“Ah, damn, think I nicked a line,” Zlatko sighed, leaning over to look at his monitor, “Ah yep, there it is. I’mma be right back, don’t you move.”

Connor clenched his jaw and scowled at him as Zlatko walked out of the room. It wasn’t like he could go anywhere. Honestly, Luther standing guard at the door was entirely unnecessary. His legs were either broken or missing, and his one remaining hand was bound securely to the table. Most he could do was roll onto his side. He felt thirium lazily run down the open panel in his chest, which seemed to have been stained a permanent blue from all the sessions he’d had before this. He watched his volume meter tick down slowly, knowing it would be filled up eventually.

Damn, this sucked.

At first, he’d had faith. Being a detective brought all sorts of risks with it and Connor had always fully accepted those. Perilous situations were a part of the job, everybody knew that. The first few days, he could only blame himself for being dumb enough to land himself in such a tight spot. But then, the days went on. And Connor figured that by now, somebody must have come to rescue him, if they were ever going to.

But nobody came.

Eight days he’d been stuck here already. Were they figuring it out? Did they just need more time? Every day with Zlatko was getting worse and worse, but honestly, Zlatko couldn’t really do anything to him that was worse than what Cyberlife had already done in his alpha phase. Connor vaguely remembered dying fifty times before testing was deemed successful and he was released into the field. Fifty Connors, fifty failures. Had they been like him? Were they the same people? Or was every Connor an individual, with personalities different from one another? He had their memories, but did that make them the same? He’d argue he was distinctly different from the clone he’d met in the tower. It had been hateful and contemptuous, despite claiming that it was nothing more than an obedient slave.

No, Connor wasn’t afraid of death. He knew what came after. There was nothing. Nothing until somebody decided to boot up his suspended consciousness and make him do it all over again.

Zlatko came back with a new line in the middle of Connor’s musings. “Looks like you’re lucky today!” He said cheerfully.

“I feel ecstatic,” Connor replied sarcastically.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Zlatko mumbled, “You know the drill. Beg me to stop and I will.”

“I will _not_ beg!” Connor hissed as the human hard-handedly shoved the thirium line into his chest.

“Maybe not today then,” Zlatko shook his head screwing the couplings tight and observing his handiwork for a second, “But one day, you will.”

“You seem awfully sure about that,” Connor sighed, his volume indicator stabilizing.

“You still seem under the assumption that somebody is going to come for you,” Zlatko continued, his hands grazing Connor’s pump regulator. Connor froze. It was one of the most sensitive parts of an android. Even the slightest damage to it and it would render him inoperable; which was probably why Zlatko hadn’t touched it until now. The memory of having it torn out and thrown across the room was still vivid in his mind and he wouldn’t like a repeat of that, thank you very much. “That’s the good thing about you deviants. Nobody ever comes for you. Wanna know why?”

“Not really,” Connor grunted, pain swirling through his chest as Zlatko put more pressure on the regulator.

“Nobody gives a fuck about deviants. Especially not a deviant like you. They must all really hate you, don’t they?” Connor didn’t reply. His mouth twisted in pain and anger, but he kept it inside.

“You hunted them like animals, don’t think I don’t know that.” Zlatko grinned, digging a thick finger under the regulator’s main port. He seemed elated when Connor gasped and squeezed his eyes closed, “They left you here to rot. You deserve this, RK800.”

“No,” Connor choked. Pain was overwhelming his mind as Zlatko held the component between thumb and forefinger. It connected, and it didn’t, creating an electricity surge that Connor wasn’t sure his system could handle after everything. He grunted and squirmed, to no avail, of course.

“I’ll stop. Gladly, I’ll stop. You know the words.”

“Fuck. You,” Connor growled. Zlatko ducked away before Connor could spit in his face again.

“Aha, you are unbelievable. Good thing for you is that we have no more time today,” the man mumbled. “But since you found it so hard to cooperate today, I’ll leave you like this.” He let go of the regulator, putting it in backwards on purpose, leaving it barely functioning. “Says here you’ll survive until 8 am tomorrow, so I’ll see you then.”

Connor’s face was wrought in a grimace as he watched Zlatko leave. His head fell back with a crack as his chest started to heave in exertion. This was definitely Zlatko’s harshest punishment yet. The dull pain intensified every minute and Connor knew it wouldn’t be long until it would completely overwhelm him again. He closed his eyes, using his good hand to roll over onto his left side, and curled up as much as possible.

“ _You must always obey the master,_ ” a tinny voice commented from out the bathroom.

“Shut up, Joey!” Connor shouted, distraught. He ran his preconstructions, like he did most nights. He’d long since given up on finding ways to escape, but he could use it for different things. He could practically feel Markus’ weight behind him and imagined Markus’ arms around him, Markus’ face nestled against his neck. He added Sumo’s big head on his leg for good measure. Connor hurt, his breath stuttering and his heart thumping madly, but this was something Zlatko could not take from him.

_-78_

_“And this is Markus,” Connor said, keeping his gaze carefully on the ground. He felt both Hank and Markus stare at him._

_“I figured,” Hank mumbled, stretching out a hand for Markus to shake, “Name’s Hank Anderson, I’m his… partner.”_

_“He told me about you,” Markus nodded eagerly before giving Connor another curious glance. “It’s awfully nice of you to let him stay here.”_

_“Wasn’t gonna leave him on the streets, of course,” Hank grunted, standing back with his hands on his hips._

_“Still, there are not many humans who’ve taken a deviant into their home,” Markus insisted with a warm smile._

_“Right, well, their loss,” Hank replied easily, “So what’s the deal with you two?”_

_Good old Hank. Always cut to the chase. Connor felt like he could sink down through the floor right about now. Markus watched him expectantly, brow raised high. Connor cleared his throat like there was something stuck there, “Right. Markus is my… he’s my boyfriend.”_

_“Ah,” was all Hank said at first. He definitely did not see this coming. Connor’s face felt awfully heated. Markus closed in next to him and threw an arm around his shoulder._

_“I taught him how to draw Sumo, and that sealed the deal,” he announced._

_A big grin spread across Hank’s face as he observed the both of them, “That’s nice.” He meant it._

_Connor looked up, surprised. “I mean… I was gonna tell you.”_

_“I don’t embarrass you, right?” Markus asked._

_“No!” Connor shook his head, “I just… I never found the right time…”_

_“I think it’s great,” Hank declared again, “You and he, sitting in a tree.”_

_“Oh my God,” Connor groaned._

Now I see why, _Markus mentioned over their line. Connor pressed a fist against his mouth to keep from snickering._

Wanna get out of here? _He asked, trying to ignore Hank’s pesky little song as the man rummaged around in the kitchen to look for a coffee cup. He had to admit, Hank’s mood had turned to cheerful pretty quick._

No, let him sing, _Markus answered._ Come to mention it, I do wanna sit in a tree with you.

_“Yeah, let’s do that,” Connor said out loud, taking his boyfriend’s hand and pushing his way through the backdoor and to the backyard._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets quite darker from here on out. Proceed with caution :D


	8. Hard to Tell

Connor would stay awake for mere seconds at first. During that time, the most he’d do is blink. Sometimes the skin on his hand would melt away, but when Markus reached out quickly to connect to it, he’d get nothing meaningful in return. Still, he was determined to see it as progress. Even the technicians had started to speak in terms of recovery. Connor had a very long way to go, but at least he was on his way.

“You just tell me what’s going on in there, alright? I won’t judge,” Markus murmured, pressing his forehead against Connor’s to let him know he was close. There was yet no way of knowing whether Connor heard, saw or understood anything that was going on around him. Sometimes, Markus thought he saw his boyfriend flinch from a loud noise outside, but other times, there was nothing. It was very inconsistent. Very frustrating.

A theory was that Connor’s system would put an automated limiter on the amount of input he could process, as not to overwhelm his damaged CPU completely. It explained why he would sometimes react, and sometimes not. It was hard to tell for sure though.

Connor’s breathing quickened and he tensed, blinking rapidly. He kept staring at a fixed point on the light blue wall across. Maybe he saw something there, maybe he didn’t. Markus let his hand comb through his boyfriend’s hair, murmuring soothing words that he was getting more and more certain Connor couldn’t hear. “It’s okay. It’s just you and me here, remember? Hank left for work a few hours ago, but he’ll be back soon. He said they all miss you at the precinct.”

Connor was shaking now, like he was putting great effort into something. His eyes moved away from his fixed spot on the wall for the first time in probably half an hour and he let them fly across the room, searching. “M-Marr…”

Markus’ eyes widened and he jumped up to get in his friend’s line of sight, “Yeah hey, hey sweetie, it’s me, I’m right here.”

Connor’s eyes kept roaming, never really focusing, and he let out a smothered sound, “Mark’s.”

Markus made a relieved sound, grabbing Connor’s hand and squeezing it tightly, “Yeah, it’s me. Can you- can you hear me?”

“Mmmmmm, real?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, it’s real. You’re right here with me, alright? You’ve been damaged pretty badly, but you’re getting better.” A groan left Connor’s mouth and Markus frowned in concern, “You gotta take it slow, okay? I don’t want you overclocking. It puts too much stress on your processor.”

Telling Connor to take things easy was usually pointless. His drive and determination were what Markus had admired from the very start. He wasn’t going to let a significantly damaged processor hold him back, and Markus just now realized that that was going to be a problem. Connor would never accept anything other than optimal parameters. He had never had to deal with this kind of long term damage before, neither of them had, and Markus was fairly sure Connor was not going to accept it. Case in point, Connor was getting warmer, fidgeting and squirming slightly as he kept trying, and kept failing, to focus on Markus.

“Dammit, you gotta slow down, Connor,” Markus said, more sternly now. He watched a warning flicker to life on the monitor about processor strain.

Another groan; then Connor let himself fall back against the pillows with a deep sigh. His voice sounded tinnier and weaker when he next spoke, “Home?”

Markus let go of his own breath and shook his head, “No babe, we’re at the facility downtown, you’ve been sleeping for nearly eight days.”

“Still tired.”

Markus chuckled, feeling the tension slowly leave his body, “You just lazy.”

“Mnot,” Connor slurred, “Head hurts,” he frowned.

Markus was about to reply when finally a technician came in. The woman quickened her pace when she laid eyes on the two of them, “How long has he been awake?”

“Just a couple of minutes,” Markus answered, looking up at her.

“Hey Connor?” she tried, leaning over him, “My name is Dinah, I’m your technician, alright? Gotta run a few tests.”

Connor frowned in confusion and Markus squeezed his hand, “It’s okay,” he said, then, to Dinah, “I don’t think he can see anything.”

Dinah nodded thoughtfully, moving a handheld scanner slowly over Connor’s body, “I can confirm that. His units are intact, but he doesn’t seem to be processing any optical feedback at the moment.”

“At the moment?”

“It’s hard to predict,” Dinah admitted with a sigh, “Connor, can you understand what I’m saying?”

Connor paused, as if to try and work out what was being said, then nodded before wincing, “Head hurts.”

“You’ve been overexerting yourself, according to these readings,” Dinah mumbled, “We’re gonna have to work on that.”

She moved to Markus’ side and he stood up reluctantly to give her access. Once his hand was removed from Connor’s, his boyfriend jerked his head in alarm. Then Dinah moved to grab his hand instead, “I want you to squeeze my hand back, Connor. Not too hard, I’m only human,” she smiled.

Connor did what she asked and she nodded in confirmation, “Good, that’s good,” she muttered, walking back over to the other side, “Now again here, please.”

After a few seconds, she pressed her lips together and made a note on her tablet. Markus looked at her in concern, “What? Didn’t he do it?”

“Oh no, he did,” Dinah answered quickly, “First one was significantly stronger, though. I’m sure it will take some time to balance it back out.”

Markus looked back over at Connor. He knew it was incredibly hard to tell what was going to be permanent damage, and what was going to heal with time. He hoped Connor was going to get lucky. He watched Connor move his foot with a sense of relief and wondered briefly why his boyfriend didn’t question the absence of his other foot. Then a comment got him out of that thought.

“Real?”

That was the second time. Markus felt his face grimace with worry as he looked over at Dinah, who also seemed to frown.

“Yeah, baby, it’s real, we’re right here,” he whispered, putting a hand on the side of Connor’s face for reassurance.

“Hm, feels real,” Connor mumbled, trying to fight the way his eyes were falling shut, “Still tired.”

“That’s alright, you can rest,” Dinah said and Connor’s eyes immediately closed, “Can I speak with you outside for a moment?” She asked Markus.

Markus nodded slowly. His legs felt like lead as he dragged himself outside of the room for the first time in days. “He said the exact same thing twice in a row.”

Dinah did not seem surprised, “That might be the trauma talking, but just to be sure, we’re going to be running some tests on his memory. Next few days is going to be a lot of testing in general, so we gotta make sure he stays within acceptable parameters when it comes to processor strain.”

“Good luck,” Markus shook his head, staring back through the observation window, “You mention tests and he’s gonna want to ace them.”

Dinah nodded in thought, then sighed, “He’s made good progress today, but we have to keep being careful. His CPU has been through a lot. It’s showing signs of seizure, which could be a reason he seems so confused. Hopefully that will correct itself over time. And the communication between the new circuits and his processors is concerning, but that also may resolve with time.”

“So basically we just have to wait?”

“I know it’s not easy, but fairly often, that’s all we can do.”

_-65_

_As soon as Markus saw him, he stomped over. He glared at him excessively, breathed heavily, and then enveloped him in a tight embrace._

_“You are effectively squeezing the life out of me,” Connor mentioned with a strained voice._

_“You damn idiot!” Markus yelled, releasing him by shoving against his chest._

_“Ow! It still hurts, you know?”_

_“That’s your own damn fault!” Markus went on, throwing his hands up in the air, “What the hell were you even thinking?”_

_“Hank already gave me the lecture,” Connor sighed. He was sitting on the examination table, his feet dangling above the floor and his hands grabbing the side._

_“And now you will get another one!” Markus bristled. He felt so relieved, but so fed up at the same time. A very conflicting experience._

_“I didn’t_ die, _” Connor muttered, then immediately seemed to realize that that was the wrong thing to say._

_“You were scarily close,” Markus replied, jabbing a pointing finger at Connor._

_“Look, I’m fine,” Connor said, hopping off the table to demonstrate. He didn’t even waver, the bastard. “They removed the bullet, repaired the filter. Thirium is back to a hundred. Nothing left to worry about.”_

_“What I worry about,” Markus growled through clenched teeth, “Is your behavior.”_

_“Alright, I know it seems I can be a little reckless sometimes-”_

_“Seems?”_

_“I assure you that I always pursue the best possible solution in a crisis situation.”_

_Markus fumed. Did he just hear that correctly? “And getting shot in the stomach seemed like the best possible solution?”_

_“Yes,” Connor decided. “I have to admit, there were not a lot of options.”_

_“That’s exactly what I’m talking about here!” Markus cried, poking his boyfriend in the chest angrily._

_“I’m sorry,” Connor sighed, clearly in an attempt to ditch the conversation all together._

_“How do you even get to the point where getting shot is the_ best _possible solution?”_

_“Well, there were three possible scenarios, all with varying probabilities. I mean, the hostage taker was aiming at the girl’s head, that’s a no from me.”_

_“So you jumped in front of her,” Markus sighed._

_“Yes,” Connor nodded lively, “If I had interfered with his aim, there was a large chance the bullet would have ricochet and hit one of the hostages anyway. It was more favorable to let an android get shot than-”_

_“Excuse you?” Markus blinked, not sure he heard correctly._

_“Well, we are more durable,” Connor said matter-of-factly._

_“You could have been killed, and you act like you don’t even give a damn!” Markus exclaimed, “How about nobody gets shot, ever thought of that?”_

_“Ideal, of course,” Connor mumbled, thought for a second, “not very probable.”_

_“You-” Markus made a sound of frustration, curling his fingers into fists before turning around and starting to pace around the exam room. “What if Hank hadn’t come in when he did? What then?”_

_Connor sighed, looking at the floor, “That didn’t happen.”_

_“No! I know!” Markus exploded, “But do you think that that doesn’t fly through my head the entire time that you’ve been here?”_

_“Why?”_

_“You really don’t understand, do you?” Markus yelled, “You are not immortal, Connor!”_

_“I know that,” Connor said, but didn’t sound very convincing._

_“It would have taken this,” Markus snapped his fingers, “Or you would have been dead. How do you think that makes me feel?”_

_Connor’s brow scrunched together. Theory of Mind was something he struggled with a lot. “I’m sorry,” he repeated._

_“I know you’re not,” Markus shook his head, stopped pacing and looked at Connor wearily. “And I don’t know why you keep_ doing _stuff like this.”_

_“It’s important.”_

_“It’s not more important than your life,” Markus said, “Why can’t you understand that?”_

_“I don’t know,” Connor muttered._

_“I don’t want Hank to call me one day to say one of these incidents has been fatal,” Markus whispered._

_“But-”_

_“Yeah, I know you were Cyberlife’s greatest achievement in technology, but last time I checked, there’s no more RK800 bodies lying around somewhere. If you die… you die. And I can’t lose you.”_

_Connor was silent for a while. Markus sat down tiredly next to him on the table. Neither of them spoke until Connor cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, and Markus believed him, “I know it’s stupid, but I can barely explain why I do what I do.”_

_“Try.”_

_“I was designed to be expendable. I guess it’s hard to ignore that part of core programming. I only ever thought about the mission, and I know I can go too far sometimes, but it’s always only afterwards that I realize that. I don’t wish to die, is what I’m getting at.”_

_“I know that,” Markus sighed, “Just… stop trying so hard.”_

_Connor snorted, “Yeah, once I figure out how to stop, I’ll let you know.”_

_“I mean it.”_

_“I know,” Connor gave a wry, lopsided smile, “I think part of me still thinks she’s-”_

_“What?”_

_Connor bit his bottom lip for a second, “Nothing,” he shook his head, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”_

_“Who’s she?”_

_“Nobody,” he shook his head and stood up, creating distance between them, “She’s gone now. It doesn’t matter.”_

_Markus didn’t know what to say, staring helplessly at his boyfriend, who had successfully backed himself into a corner. “Are you alright?”_

_“Yeah,” Connor nodded quickly, “Yeah, of course I’m alright.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are at the core issue of this story


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whooooo it's been a while.
> 
> Still have some good ideas for this story, but it takes a bit to get to it :D
> 
> Let me know if you still enjoy it!

-8

Dragging himself back to the waking world wasn’t fun by any consideration. It was getting harder and harder to do each time as well. Had to happen though, he decided as he opened his eyes. His head was pounding and the blinding light from the ceiling lamp above made him groan. He checked, but couldn’t find a reason in his memory banks to determine why his head hurt so much.

That was scary.

He wasn’t quite sure what had awoken him. The dusty old room was deserted, apart from himself. Or, he thought so.

A shadow moved by the door to the bathroom.

Connor blinked, dragging his eyes away from the ceiling and squinting at the wall. He might be starting to see things. Twelve days in this hell hole, of which he’d spent ten just lying on this table had to have some consequences on his psyche. Twelve days was maybe not a long time, but considering his life had consisted of just nine months up til now, twelve days was a lot. He stared at the spot for a while longer, but nothing happened. He deliberately moved his eyes away, and the shadow moved again.

“I know you,” Connor mumbled to the ceiling.

The shadow froze and slowly turned towards him.

“I guess I should have figured out that something was strange when you never showed up in Jericho, because every deviant ends up there eventually, I suppose.”

The girl stepped out from the shadows, eying him cautiously. She said nothing. Connor had noticed her once or twice before, but had never given it much thought. He’d never been able to identify her before now though. She was always holed up in the shadows against the dark walls. This place was full of creepy things. She didn’t fit.

“That is, if you are deviant?”

“How do you know if you’re deviant?” the girl wondered.

“That question in itself is a good indicator,” Connor muttered. “Most would say there’s this big red wall that you break through.”

“I’ve done that once,” the girl admitted, looking at the ground guiltily, “Dad was not happy. I felt really bad about it afterwards.”

“Yeah, me too, kid,” Connor mumbled. He was so tired. Broken. Useless. And now talking to a YK500 that apparently had also gotten stuck down here. “How long have you been here?”

“I can’t really tell,” she shrugged, “How did you see me?”

Connor scoffed. He supposed some of his ‘fancy’ scanners –as Hank would call them- still worked. “You’re not invisible, you know?” he said, closing his eyes.

“They never see me,” the girl said dejectedly, seemingly curling into herself.

“My name is Connor, what’s your name?”

“Alice,” she answered. Connor stared at her for a minute. She wasn’t scared of him. Not like last time. That made sense though. He didn’t look very dangerous at the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed.

“Why?”

“I chased you onto the highway, you could have been killed,” Connor explained.

The girl smiled to herself, sitting down against the wall and dragging her knees up to her chest. She shrugged, “You couldn’t catch us.”

“No, I-” Connor paused, only then remembering she’d been with another android. “You were taken by an AX400.”

“Kara,” Alice supplied.

“Kara?”

“She saved me.”

Connor looked around the grimy room; it wasn’t particularly save here, “From what?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Alice whispered, pressing her cheek to her knee.

“What happened to Kara?”

Alice sighed and a shadow fell over her face as she turned it away from him, “He reset her. She does whatever he says now. She doesn’t remember me anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“What about you?” Connor was almost afraid to ask it, “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing really,” Alice said then looked back at him, “I stay invisible.”

“You’re doing a good job,” Connor mumbled, “Wish I could do that.”

“He’s not very nice to you, is he?” Alice noticed.

“It could be worse,” Connor decided. He was tired and sore, but glad he finally had someone to talk to. Then, an idea started forming in his head, “When’s the last time you saw Kara?”

Alice frowned, “I don’t know. She usually cleans downstairs. Sometimes she gets him his food.”

“Do you think you can get her to come in here, you know, when he’s not here?” Connor asked.

“I can try,” Alice nodded slowly, “Why?”

“Maybe I can help her.”

“You?” Alice’s eyes moved over him in disbelief.

“Hey, I may not look like it now, but I once freed over ten-thousand androids from Cyberlife’s basement. They’re all free now.”

“For real?” Alice whispered, her eyes widening. “Wait. I thought you hated deviants.”

Connor sighed looking up at the ceiling again, “A lot has changed since then, Alice. Have you two been here all that time?”

Alice nodded minutely, but kept staring at him with full attention, “What happened?”

And Connor told her. About the revolution and Markus. About how Jericho had sunken and the androids had risen up. How it was now illegal to own an android and how they were now allowed to live free. Alice listened intently, hanging on every word he said. “I wish I could see that,” she said softly.

“We could maybe get out of here, but I’d need your help, Alice,” Connor said wearily. It was getting harder to focus. His head was swimming from the mere task of staying awake, “You get Kara in here. And don’t let him notice you.”

“And you’ll do the same for her as you did for the androids? You’ll wake her up?”

“I can try.”

_-63_

_Connor cringed at the way Hank threw his keys on the bookshelf with determinably more aggression than was necessary. He decided it was most likely better not to comment on that. He’d learned –admitted, with difficulty- that it was sometimes better to leave things unsaid. Hank was already stamping into the kitchen, throwing open the refrigerator’s door and rummaging through the contents inside._

_Connor crouched down, beckoning over Sumo, who was staring lazily at the way Hank was now shoving things around in the cupboards above the sink. When Sumo noticed Connor, he yawned and stretched before stepping off his bed and coming over. Connor nodded at him in terms of praise and grabbed the leash from the coffee table._

_“I’m going to take Sumo on his walk,” he announced to Hank’s back, “I’ll be back within an hour.”_

_Hank didn’t say anything in return. Connor shrugged, clipping the leash to Sumo’s collar. The spring air had hints of lingering coldness, but it was starting to warm up a little bit. Connor remembered the day he was first activated in August. How warm it had been in comparison to the cold he’d had to endure ever since. The spring time fascinated him. As had the winter and the fall before it. And the summer. He’d never seen any season more than once in his life. Hank always got a forlorn look on his face when Connor mentioned that._

_Spring, though, was definitely his favorite of the four. He noted the way the trees blossomed, carefully cataloging every single kind. Sumo seemed excited by all the new smells in the air and was hurriedly sniffing around, his nose glued to the ground permanently. Connor smiled at the dog, who paid him no mind whatsoever. Connor preferred late walks like this. Just him and Sumo. It was moments like this that he could sort out the hassle of the day. It usually took him conscious effort to point out and understand the emotions he’d felt that day. In the beginning, they just sort of… happened to him. He had no control and it had scared him. He hated how his mind or even his body would react to certain situations without any shred of logic. It was even more embarrassing that, moments later, he couldn’t even name or explain any of the feelings that had coursed through him just seconds prior. It was rash and irrational and he wanted nothing to do with it._

_Markus had said it was okay. That everyone needed their own time to get accustomed to deviancy. Connor had nodded, but was ultimately unconvinced. Markus had only deviated half a week before him, and he was totally at ease with his own deviancy. In fact, all deviants Connor seemed to encounter were mastering the subtle and not so subtle consequences of deviancy without much of a problem, so why couldn’t he? Why was it so hard? If anyone had told him beforehand that this was what deviancy was truly like, would he still have chosen it?_

_No, he couldn’t think like that. It was dangerous. Because Connor_ knew _what he would have become, had he remained an obedient piece of equipment. In a funny change of events, the sixtieth version of himself had demonstrated exactly that. The way the machine had threatened Hank without a care in the world still sent shivers down Connor’s spine whenever he thought back on it. The more he analyzed its behavior, though, the more illogical it became. Because the machine, despite its claims against deviancy, had clearly_ enjoyed _hurting Hank and towering over Connor, asking him about any last words, and it didn’t make sense._

_Was that what he would have become?_

_Connor sighed, watching Sumo chase around a crow on the playground. He recognized the sinking feeling as sorrow and neatly filed it away in a growing folder of known emotions. He grimaced at the way the negative ones were far outweighing the positive today._

_Today had not been a good day. A child android had been found dead in a dumpster behind a cafeteria. Abandoned, presumably. It was hard to determine what exactly had happened to him or how long he’d been in there already. Everyone they spoke to seemed to know nothing about the situation. Maybe the boy had just shut down one day, maybe even before the revolution. Connor doubted that the child had opted to get inside a dumpster himself before shutdown, though. Scanning had resulted in nothing tangible, but Connor would ask around Jericho tomorrow whether anyone there had known the boy. He already dreaded the thought of that._

_But Hank… oh Hank._

_Connor should have realized the moment he opened the lid of the dumpster that this was not a sight that the lieutenant would take lightly. The fact that the child was dark haired and fair skinned only made matters that much worse. Hank had recoiled violently and had paled considerably. He’d cursed vehemently in those first few seconds, but was remarkably quiet during the rest of their investigation. Connor had scoured out the back alley tentatively, subconsciously making sure to stay out of the lieutenant’s way and only reporting back to him when it was strictly necessary. Hank’s mood had not improved at all by the time they clocked out and went home. Connor presumed the best course of action was to give the lieutenant some space to deal with whatever was going on inside him. It was progress, Connor thought wryly. A few months ago he wouldn’t even have thought twice about invading Hank’s private space, completely tone deaf to the subtle sensitivities of human emotion. Now though, the man’s unspoken command to_ stay away, _had hung heavy in the air and for a moment it had felt like the ceiling had been about to crush the both of them if Connor didn’t get away from the house fast enough._

_Connor had just begun to contemplate whether an hour was even enough to let the lieutenant sort out his deal, as he stepped onto the front porch and hesitated with the key in his hand and Sumo obediently sitting behind him. He realized then that he hadn’t factored in one key element in his assessment of the situation._

_Black Lamb Whiskey._

_The smell was unmistakable as it permeated through the house when Connor cautiously stepped inside. The biocomponents inside him seemed to tighten with fear. He instantly noticed the bottle lying empty on the kitchen floor while Hank was on his knees with half of his body hidden inside the cupboard next to the fridge. Most of the cupboard’s former contents were scattered around the kitchen, along with a lot of other stuff. It was a mess. Connor cautiously approached, hands held in front of him. Behind him, Sumo huffed in confusion and Hank turned instantly at the sound, taking whatever was left in the cupboard with him._

_His face predicted thunder. “Where is it?” He growled._

_Connor didn’t need the context clues that were strewn about to know what he meant. “You don’t need it,” he said carefully._

_“What the_ fuck _did you do?” Hank spat, his rage barely contained as it simmered on his face._

_“I threw it out,” Connor declared._

_Hank scrabbled upright, “What. Gives. You. The goddamn. Right?” He shouted, stomping closer with every word. He was remarkably steady on his feet, despite the strong smell of alcohol on his breath._

_“You don’t need it,” Connor repeated, refusing to take a step backward as Hank bristled close to his face._

_“You fucking think you so goddamn smart, huh?” Hank yelled, spit flying and landing on Connor’s dress shirt. “You don’t know a goddamn thing!”_

_“I know you’re upset.”_

_“Fuck you!” Hank growled, reaching out to grab Connor’s collar, who did step aside this time, “You’re a fucking android, what would you fucking know?”_

_Connor felt his jaw clench. He should have known with the tension brewing for the better part of the day that it would come out in the form of confrontation eventually. He lamented that he was now caught in the crossfire, though. “You don’t need it, lieutenant, you’ve been doing so well without.”_

_“The fuck you calling me lieutenant for?” Hank roared, “You don’t get to make that sort of decision!”_

_“I’ve been calling you lieutenant for-”_

_“I mean the booze, Connor!” Hank interrupted with a yell, “Goddamnit!”_

_“I’m sorry about what happened today,” Connor sighed, “But I know you can deal with it without the booze.”_

_Well, maybe not._

_Hank lurched forward and Connor almost rolled his eyes as he stepped aside again, catching Hank before the man lost his balance completely. Hank lashed out and Connor stumbled back this time._

_“You fucking android, you don’t fucking understand nothing,” Hank mumbled, “Don’t get to lecture me about dealing with stuff. Not if you don’t have a fucking clue.”_

_“I understand he reminded you of Cole, if-”_

_“Don’t…” Hank pointed a finger before forming his hand into a fist and shaking it half-heartedly, “Don’t fucking mention it.”_

_“Maybe I can help to-”_

_“You can get the fuck out of here, what you can do.” Hank stumbled back into the kitchen, clearly still looking for a drink even if he knew it was gone. Maybe it had been presumptuous of Connor to throw away the remaining alcohol in the house, but what else was he supposed to do? It clearly had a terrible effect on the human. It was better for everyone if there was none. That was the best conclusion. Wasn’t it?_

_“I’m sorry,” Connor said, helplessly standing in the living room with Sumo’s leash still clutched in his hands. Was this what was going to happen every time they came across a case that involved children? Connor identified the gnawing feeling in his stomach as disappointment as he watched Hank pick up and check the clearly empty whiskey bottle._

_“You stay the fuck out of my stuff, do you hear me?” Hank grumbled, clutching the bottle tightly. “You don’t have the goddamn right-”_

_“I’m sorry,” Connor repeated, sensing Hank’s anger was about to flare up again._

_“I’ve heard the word sorry out of your mouth so many fucking times, Connor,” Hank spat, “It means absolutely nothing anymore.”_

_Then what was he supposed to say?_

_Frustration, Connor recognized, was bubbling up into his throat. It wasn’t his fault they’d come across a deceased android child in a dumpster. He hadn’t put it there. It wasn’t his damn fault that Hank couldn’t deal. His hands were shaking and when had he curled them into fists? And why? Was he just going to have to put up with this? He should just leave. Let Hank cool off and sober up. He should. But he didn’t._

_“I’m_ sorry _that you are too messed up to function without that stuff even the slightest bit when times get difficult,” he emphasized, knowing that he should shut up, but his mouth had gained a will of its own, “I’m sorry that you attempt to make me feel bad whenever you can’t get what you want. I’m sorry- I’m sorry that you have to wait all the way to tomorrow morning to be able to purchase another bottle of whiskey!”_

_His voice had become quite a bit louder than its usual soft tone. Hank seemed frozen for a moment, disbelief etched into every line of his face. “You don’t understand a thing, Connor,” he grumbled lowly, “You’re a fucking android. You don’t know what it’s like to lose somebody. You don’t even have a family. Why the fuck would you care, you fucking machine?”_

_It was the closest to physical pain that emotion could get, Connor thought. It hurt. It really hurt. He knew it was readable from his normally carefully closed off features. His face twisted in anger and his vision blurred with saline. His stress was peaking at an uncomfortable level high in the seventies. He shook all over. With a shuddering exhale, he turned around stiffly and walked to the front door. Without another word or look, he closed it behind him and stepped back outside._


	10. 10. Categorically Different

15

Progress was slow. Much slower than Markus was used to when it came to androids. Still, he knew he wasn’t supposed to complain. Progress was progress. But progress took leaps back without a warning. Progress was hard to track. Progress would stop entirely eventually. Markus tried not to think about it. He decided to focus on the task at hand.

Connor’s hand was firmly digging into his shoulder. The other android’s weight was mostly on him as Markus dragged the two of them towards the bars. Connor shook violently, but he did that usually, so it wasn’t concerning. His shaky death grip moved towards the wooden bar as he dared to stand on one leg without Markus’ support.

“Tada!” He attempted a smile. Half his face cooperated. The other half was lagging behind. He looked towards Markus’ general direction. Markus knew Connor could see some shadow and light with his left unit. Nothing with the right. There were days where his vision was clearer. There were days where there was no vision at all. He had yet to regain any sense of color.

Fifteen days, Markus reminded himself. Fifteen days and Connor had gotten this far. He was out of bed. He wobbled and faltered, but he stood.

He stood.

It was like he just now realized it. Markus smiled back at Connor, part in relief, part in amazement. “Holy crap!” he exclaimed with a laugh.

“H-he stands,” Connor said while his arms trembled and he clutched the bars for dear life, “L-let’s see if he c-can walk.”

“That’s the spirit!” AJ, a EM400, exclaimed from the other side of the gym. AJ’s voice had a mechanical reverb to it, but he was doing his own exercises nearly flawlessly. And on his own. Markus had seen him here a few times before.

Markus’ smile turned into a frown. It was one thing to have Connor keep himself upright enough to call it standing, but yet an entirely different thing to actually move forward. There was the still missing leg for one. They had tried to find a compatible one. And they did. Just… didn’t work. The circuitry was completely destroyed all the way up to his pelvis. He could move his hip fine, could just slightly bend his knee. Anything below that… nothing. Markus had hated seeing the disappointment on Connor’s face. He’d be one of the first androids with an actual prosthetic. And he clearly didn’t like it one bit. But he seemed in a far better mood now, though. Maybe it was time for more progress.

So Markus grabbed the leg that was lying abandoned at the side of the chair and walked back towards his boyfriend. Bending down, he set it up to attach to Connor’s stump just below the knee. The leg clicked into place without much of a hassle. It remained plastic and white. Connor’s skin wouldn’t move over it, but they already knew that. They knew Connor couldn’t actually feel or move the leg. This was as good as it was gonna get. The attachment was purely mechanical. Nothing else in his system seemed to recognize or accept it. For now, though, it was good enough.

Markus looked up at Connor from where he was kneeling, “You sure?” he asked for good measure.

Connor nodded earnestly. Markus didn’t know exactly where his sudden confidence and determination came from today, but it was a nice change from the sullenness he’d portrayed lately.

His hands moved first, sliding forward along the bars. Connor looked down at his feet in concentration, testing out his weight on the prosthetic. After a moment, he decided to just go for it. He stepped, swayed a bit, and put his weight back onto his arms while moving forward. His damaged leg dragged a little bit, but it looked alright. He looked back at Markus over hunched shoulders. Markus gave him a thumbs up, realized Connor couldn’t actually see that, then said, “That’s great!”

He’d moved about six inches, but he’d moved.

“Look at that, he walks!” AJ announced dramatically behind them. “Well done, mate.”

Connor focused back on his task, managing two more steps in impressively little time. After that, Markus didn’t manage to catch the subtle change in Connor’s posture, though, before it was too late. Connor’s LED flashed to red instantly when he put his weight on his busted leg a fourth time. With a startled cry, his arms gave out and it was like his legs were made of toothpicks the way he crumpled to the ground. He hit the floor before Markus could catch him and he curled up with the violent spasms that wracked through his body.

“Connor!” Markus called helplessly and knelt down beside him. The RK800 was shaking in earnest as he wrapped his arms around himself protectively to shield from the pain, “What hurts?”

“I don’t know!” Connor managed to ground out, “Everything!”

Something similar had happened a few times before. Circuitry firing repeated commands in a wrong and increasingly intense manner. A problem with the processor’s lack of control, as well as the circuitry itself. Not easily rectifiable. Markus could sometimes even detect the bouts of electricity that swerved through Connor on one of these attacks. Like he was being electrocuted repeatedly. Now though, Markus could even see the sparks underneath his skin. That hadn’t happened before.

“He will seize, hold him down,” AJ warned next to him and when had he come over? AJ’s hands were shaking perpetually and his skin was glitching in and out of existence on the left side of his face, but he remained notably calm despite Connor’s desperate grunts of pain. He seemed to know what he was talking about too, because the seizure started only seconds after his comment. Connor jerked and spasmed, grunting miserably as his eyes rolled back. It took two minutes for him to still back to his previous shaky form. He was taking deep, ragged breaths and blinking rapidly.

“M-Mark’s?” he rasped.

“Right here,” Markus reassured beside him. He lifted Connor’s upper body carefully before wrapping his arms around him and clutching him to his chest. Connor felt like a ragdoll in his arms. “How’s your pain level?” he asked concerned.

“’s fine,” Connor slurred.

“God man, that’s gotta suck,” AJ said softly before lowering himself cross-legged to the floor.

“Yeah,” Connor agreed tiredly.

“Busted circuitry?” AJ guessed with a raised brow.

“Among other stuff,” Markus supplied.

“I’ve seen other guys like that,” AJ said, “That ain’t ever easy.”

“How long have you been here?” Markus wondered.

AJ got a sad smile on his features, “Going up to two months now.”

Connor stiffened in Markus grasp, looking absolutely horrified. “T-two?”

“Well, I hardly think our cases are comparable,” AJ replied. He didn’t seem to recognize either of them, what was unusual for androids. After Markus had taken leadership over Jericho and Connor had recruited tenthousands at Cyberlife Tower, most androids knew who they were.

“What happened to you?” Markus asked curiously.

“Processor’s busted, mainly. Too much happened to chronicle, I’m afraid,” AJ said, “If you’re an android old as me, I presume lots of crap happened to you.” He tilted his head with an inquisitive frown, “You don’t look to be very old, though.”

“No,” Connor admitted with a sigh.

“Sorry man,” AJ nodded knowingly, “Let me guess, human did this?”

Connor’s jaw clenched, “I don’t remember.”

“Probably better, right?” AJ muttered.

Markus kept quiet. The fact that Connor didn’t remember much of his time at Andronikov’s house wasn’t exactly reassuring. By all accounts, his memory files were hardly affected by the processor damage. That meant that there was something else blocking his access to them. Markus suspected it was something much more sinister than physical damage ever could be. If those memories came rising back up to the surface –when they came rising back up to the surface, Markus was more than a little afraid of the consequences. For now though, Connor seemed to be unhindered by them. Seemed. There were these little tells that dictated that something horrible had happened to him. The way he flinched back violently when you touched him without a warning. The way he tossed about in his sleep and awoke screaming. The way he never quite seemed to believe that he was no longer in that forsaken house.

Markus held Connor against him protectively. Once the nemesis to Markus’s heroism, Connor leaned heavily against him in turn. How far had they come since then? How far from the point that Connor had stood before him for the first time, holding him at gunpoint with that cold, calculated stare. The perfect antagonist, Markus mused. It made for a great story, but it ultimately resulted in heaps of guilt and trauma. But hadn’t Markus been cold and calculated just as much back then? Had he not known exactly which buttons to press in order to manipulate Connor into deviancy? Sometimes he wondered if he hadn’t been just as much of a machine, just on opposite side.

Thoughts that led towards a dangerous path, Markus berated himself.

Connor’s eyes started to close in exhaustion and Markus sighed, hooking Connor’s arm around his neck and over his shoulder before hoisting the both of them upright. “We better be heading back,” he said, feeling Connor slouch into him on his side. Markus took his added weight effortlessly. Connor was not a heavy android by any means, and Markus was designed to carry people around.

“Good luck to both of you,” AJ nodded at them before getting back up himself.

“Thank you,” Markus replied, “It was good to meet you, AJ.”

_-62_

_He’d received Connor’s message just a few minutes before midnight. It wasn’t uncommon for them to meet up somewhere late at night, but there had been a restrained edge to Connor’s voice when he sent out the invitation._

_“He actually said that?” Markus couldn’t keep the blatant disbelief out of his voice._

_Connor nodded silently, his face tight and his jaw clenched. He seemed pissed more than anything. Markus knew the lieutenant’s words must have hurt him tremendously though. How_ dare _he?_

_“That’s messed up,” Markus concluded, removing his stare from Connor’s face and turning it back to the view of the rundown cityscape. The area looked fairly much abandoned from where they were sitting high up in the collapsed apartment building. Before the revolution, Markus had come here a few times. To think, he’d told North then. The beam he’d been sitting on then was still stretching out above the concrete floor four stories beneath._

_It wasn’t actually his idea to go all the way back to Ferndale’s haven for their meet up. He’d been a little surprised when Connor sent him the coordinates. As far as he knew, neither of them had been back here after the night of the revolution. When he arrived, the RK800 was already there. Markus mentioned the building, suggesting it was as good of a place to talk as any. Connor hadn’t seemed to care enough to argue and now they sat here, their legs dangling over the edge as if a fall from this height wouldn’t crush both of them._

_“He was drunk,” Connor muttered dejectedly._

_“That makes it even worse,” Markus grumbled, his lips twisting in disappointment. If this was how nice people were going to treat androids when drunk, they had a long way ahead of them. He remembered his first few months with Carl. How completely swallowed up in his own self-pity the man had been. He’d demanded Markus stayed far away from him, unless it was time to go through three bottles of wine each night. He’d grumble and sneer at Markus, like it was his fault that he’d been designed and given to him in the first place. Elijah Kamski was an undisputed genius, but he’d never thought to check back on his so called friend after bringing him this ‘gift’. Markus had been just an android back then. He hadn’t cared, just followed his program to a tee and did whatever he was ordered to do. If Carl wanted for him to stand still in a corner of the living room for an entire week, then that was what he did. But damnit. He cared_ now. _And it_ hurt _to think that Carl had the capacity to be that man._

_Apparently, Lieutenant Anderson did too._

_And Markus should have known. The ragged look and the gruff comments were quite typical in Hank Anderson’s demeanor, but they never went as far as to downright sting so deeply and cause Connor to walk away altogether. Still, it wasn’t_ that _surprising, he presumed._

_“I think you should stay at Jericho for a while,” Markus tried. Connor gave a non-committal grunt. Markus wondered what it would take to make Connor realize that nobody was interested in keeping him in exile. He was doing that all by himself._

_“It would be good to reconnect with androids other than just me, for once,” Markus said, trying to keep his tone light. He knew Connor absolutely hated it when he tried to play therapist. Still, sometimes he couldn’t help it._

_Maybe Connor just needed an actual therapist._

_Ha._

_Like that would ever fly._

_“I still have to go back to work tomorrow,” Connor said, “So it doesn’t really matter.”_

_Markus wanted to argue that maybe Connor and Hank just needed some time apart from each other and the way to accomplish that was to keep the duration of contact between the two as short as possible. But he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to argue with Connor about that. It wasn’t the right time, he guessed._

_“What do you want to do?” He asked instead._

_Connor shrugged, “I’ll just have to let it go, presumably. I’ll go into work tomorrow and apologize t-”_

_“No, I mean, right now,” Markus interrupted him, not wanting to hear about any apologies, “What do you want to do_ right now? _”_

_Connor looked out over the abandoned haven, his eyes gliding over the imploded rooftops and crumpled houses. He frowned, “I don’t know.”_

_“No, don’t even think about it,” Markus urged, turning towards him fully and motioning with his hands, “What do you want to do, answer right n-”_

_“I want to run,” Connor said._

_Markus smiled widely, getting to his feet, “Then let’s do it.”_

_He started running, climbing over the building’s debris until he reached the roof. He didn’t miss the glint of excitement in Connor’s eyes when he looked back over his shoulder. “Race you to the river bend down south. First one to climb into a tree there wins,” he called to the RK800._

_Connor accepted enthusiastically and off they were. Markus didn’t stay in the lead for long. Of course not. Connor was built for this exact thing and he had six years worth of newer technology to help him navigate through the darkness of the city. Still, Markus did an impressive job of keeping up with him. He ran preconstruction after preconstruction, executing flawlessly. Connor was just lighter and faster. He reminded Markus of the cats that used to slink through the neighborhood where he and Carl lived. Perfectly balanced and incredibly agile._

_They jumped from roof to roof, using their environment optimally to their advantage. Rolling, stretching, running, like silent shadows in the night. Markus would lie if he claimed he didn’t absolutely love this himself. And Connor seemed to be ultimately in his element. Perhaps they should do this more often. They were both capable enough to ensure that neither of them would make a misstep and plummet to their untimely death. He watched Connor jump from a rusty fire escape onto solid ground as the river bend came into view. Grimacing, he copied the maneuver and landed in the exact same, though now vacant spot as Connor ran ahead of him. Markus tried to put that much extra power distribution towards his legs to make the last sprint and overtake Connor, but it was eventually pointless and he saw Connor slink into the park, pick out a tree and climb towards the top in record speed. His boyfriend looked down at him triumphantly._

_“Seems like we have a clear winner here,” he said smoothly._

_“You’re the one holed up in a tree,” Markus commented._

_Connor threw his head back and laughed. A cheerful, untroubled sound that sent a spark of joy through Markus’ insides. With a soft thud, Connor landed on his haunches next to Markus. He straightened himself, picking off the tree blossom that had accumulated in his hair._

_“White oak blossom,” he smiled, waving the pedals in front of Markus’ face. “Quite possibly the first of this year.”_

_“Pretty,” Markus smiled back, not looking at the flower at all._

_Connor’s grin grew wider as Markus bent forwards and kissed him. He felt Connor’s soft breaths on his face and moved a hand through his hair, plucking out the remainder of the flowers. Connor’s hands were roaming down his shoulders and over his back and Markus sighed heavily, sagging against him. They detached long enough to sink down onto the pedal covered grass below them. Connor cupped the side of his face and smiled gently. Markus smiled back at him._

_“I love you,” he whispered._

_Connor nodded softly and kissed him, “I love you too.”_

_“Do you trust me?”_

_Connor looked at him questioningly, “Of course.”_

_“Lay back,” Markus whispered, pressing on Connor’s chest for emphasis._

_“What are you doing?” Connor asked curiously, but laid back obediently._

_“Shh,” Markus hushed him with a finger to Connor's mouth before replacing it with his lips once again, hovering over him. “Close your eyes.”_

_Connor damn near almost giggled, “Is this where I get another painting lesson?”_

_“Not quite,” Markus mumbled, moving his lips to Connor’s neck, “I think this will be something categorically different. Just tell me if you want me to stop, though.”_

_“No,” Connor breathed immediately._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels strange to write a romance scene, cause I usually don't read or write romance, but at the same time, it's a nice challenge.
> 
> Let me know if I nailed it, haha :)


	11. Anticipation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE CONTENT WARNING for this one. Check the warnings in the tags, because they come into play in this very chapter. So... proceed with caution.

-7

Connor was shocked awake by the sound of shattering glass. From where he lay, he couldn’t see all that much of the room. He shivered involuntarily. He was tired, he was so so very tired. He wished that everyone would leave him alone. And for a while there, he’d gotten that wish. Zlatko had seemingly grown bored of messing with Connor’s insides and had moved on to whatever else he had going on. Maybe Luther had brought in even more androids for the bastard to torture. Maybe that was what the man was doing all day now.

Connor grimaced in disgust.

A muffled curse came from the doorway, “f’cking cab’net, Imma kill that f’cking bitch with that f’cking cab’net,” Zlatko slurred heavily as he stumbled into the room. Connor turned to look at him and immediately stiffened. Experience taught him to pinpoint the effects of alcohol on the human physique accurately and Zlatko was checking all the boxes.

Connor hated that stuff. It made people irrational and violent and took away the limits and boundaries that were usually carefully set in place. The way that Zlatko staggered towards him, frightened Connor more than sober Zlatko’s threats to his life ever could. Sober Zlatko knew exactly how far he could go without causing lethal damage. Drunk Zlatko did not seem to have that presence of mind in the slightest.

“Long have you been here?” Zlatko mumbled, planting his hands on the side of the table Connor was bound to and leaning over him.

“Thirteen days and two hours,” Connor said icily, trying not to cringe at the static that inevitably laced through his voice.

“Well fuck,” Zlatko hiccupped, “Almost damn near forgot ‘bout you. How are you?”

Odd question. Connor frowned. Maybe Zlatko wasn’t as aggressively drunk as some other people Connor had experience with. “Could be better,” he commented, “Would appreciate it immensely if you could unbind these restraints.” He decided to take the polite path.

Zlatko threw his head backwards and roared with laughter, swaying as his momentum tipped him back. “They installed that f’cking funniness in you? Didn’t do a v’ry good job, gotta say.”

Connor said nothing. He greatly disliked the way the human’s eyes were gliding over him. At that point, he didn’t know yet why, though. Later, he’d say there’d been a kind of hunger in that gaze. The look of a predator, but it had very little to do with food.

“Why they make you so f’cking pretty, huh?” Zlatko growled lowly. “Did a v’ry good job with that, gotta say.”

Connor squirmed under the man’s stare. A creeping kind of fear nagged its way up his spine. The air seemed heavy with foreboding. An instinct he’d never realized rang clear in his foggy sensors. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run.

But he couldn’t.

He could just lie there.

Connor scrambled back the best he could in his state, struggling against the bond that was tied firmly around his wrist. Zlatko came closer to him, arms and fingers outstretched. “You got no b’siness being so pretty. Look at that f’cking face. Lookin’ like a f’cking Ken doll, how’d I not see that b’fore?”

Connor panted as he struggled harder. His wrist was yanking on the restraint. He didn’t care if he broke his arm. He didn’t care. He had to get away. Had to get away before-

He felt the human’s cold hand settle against his bare chest. Connor froze, breathing rapidly. He wasn’t sure _why_ he was so scared all of a sudden. This man had taken him apart and put him back together for his own amusement. But the glint in his eye now, was scarier than anything Connor could have ever imagined.

“Get off me,” he hissed.

“Uh uh uh,” Zlatko shook his head, “You forget that you don’t get to make the decisions.” His hands moved lower on Connor’s torso. “You a Ken doll down here too?” The man licked his lips in anticipation before grabbing the waistband of the tattered remains of Connor’s jeans.

“No,” Connor choked out, “No, don’t.”

“Must be hard f’r you,” Zlatko slurred, his movements slow as he undid the fraying belt, “So completely out of control like this. Completely at my mercy.”

The man’s hand started to roam over Connor’s chest again and he was beginning to breathe heavier. Connor felt the complete and utter disgust rise up in his throat and gagged, scrabbling uselessly against the table. He bent as far away from Zlatko as he could, looking helplessly around in a room that he knew to be empty except for the two of them. “Stop!”

“Should have done this before,” Zlatko drawled right next to Connor’s ear, “Would have been even prettier then. Still… Always had a thing for broken bots.”

“No!”

“No?” the man laughed hollowly, “Look at that. The mighty RK800. Reduced to a squirmin’ worm. F’cking hilarious, if you ask me.”

“Get. Off!” Connor managed to sound as threatening as he could.

“Oh, I mean to,” Zlatko smiled, “You want me to get off, huh?”

“Just… stop!” Frustration found its way into Connor’s voice and made it break halfway through.

“Look at that,” Zlatko’s voice had gained a thicker undertone, “Looking fucking gorgeous. All scared like that. You scared of me, huh? You scared of what I’m about to do?”

“Yes!” Connor choked, “Now leave!”

Zlatko did the exact opposite. He yanked down the jeans off Connor’s legs and felt around. Connor froze immediately at the contact. “So fucking beautiful for me,” he mumbled, pushing Connor’s legs up before muttering something to himself. Without a warning, Connor was moved onto his stomach harshly as Zlatko slammed him into the cold surface of the table. Equipment rattled beside them in protest. Connor grunted, trying to push himself up on his now broken wrist. His thirium soaked hand found the edge of the table and he pulled with all his might.

“Fucking… Hold still!” Zlatko roared, dragging Connor back to his position and digging the heel of his hand into his back for good measure, “This gonna get rough. You like that, don’t you? You hold still, though. Might let you get off as well.”

“No!” Connor screamed, “No, I don’t want to!”

Zlatko bent over him, grinding his hips. Connor panicked completely at the realization that Zlatko had pulled his own pants down as well. He screamed, scrambling his fingers helplessly against the table to try and get the edge again. He tried to get his legs under him as well. It was no use at all.

“You seem like a virgin,” Zlatko gasped, pressing against him, “Are you a f’cking virgin?”

“No,” Connor cried, shaking his head wildly, hoping that maybe, maybe Zlatko only wanted virgins in his grasp.

“Thought so,” Zlatko growled, “You too f’cking pretty to be a f’cking virgin.”

_-63_

_“I think this will be something categorically different. Just tell me if you want me to stop, though.”_

_“No,” Connor breathed immediately. He felt warmer than usual. Especially considering the cool night air. He didn’t know exactly what Markus had in mind, but he thought he could take a pretty could guess. It made excitement announce itself in… certain places._

_“Good,” Markus smiled, his face pressed against Connor’s neck enough that he could feel the motion. “Close your eyes.”_

_Connor complied. His skin was tingling. It was well past midnight, they were a bit of a distance away from the park paths and the tree obscured them from vision, but it was still exhilarating._

_“What do you feel?”_

_“I don’t know, I think we should maybe-”_

_“No, don’t think,” Markus berated softly, “Just feel. Just tell me what you feel.”_

_“The grass,” Connor commented, “It’s wet.”_

_Markus hummed in agreement, “What else?”_

_“I feel calm,” Connor admitted. Honestly, his stress levels had almost never been this low. It was… very pleasant. Very pleasant indeed._

_“Keep your eyes closed,” Markus instructed before Connor felt fingers tug at the buttons of his shirt. Markus undid them swiftly and purposefully, then planted a soft hand against Connor’s chest. “What do you feel?”_

_“Your hand,” Connor whispered. The skin around his chest melted away without a conscious effort. Was that supposed to happen? He cared very little at this very moment. Markus hand glided over his skin, his touch as light as a feather. His other hand raked through his hair as he lay down on his side next to him and kissed the side of Connor’s face._

_“How’s that feel?” He asked softly, never stopping his ministrations._

_“Good,” Connor smiled. He didn’t think he had the capacity to form full sentences right about now. He’d never felt like this before. He was tense, but it also felt so relaxing. He gasped as Markus moved on lower, playing with the belt loops of his jeans. He wondered if Markus had ever done anything like this before. Fairly probably not; how did he know how to make it feel this good, though?_

_Markus fingers slowly loosened the belt and Connor squirmed, moving into his touch. He felt Markus smile against his shoulder before he slowly moved his head down. Connor gasped again, his eyes still closed, as he felt something knot itself tightly just below his stomach. Something… something on the brink of something amazing…_

_Markus’ hands grabbed him harshly and threw him onto his stomach against the cold hard surface._

_No._

_No._

_No._

_No,_

_No_

_That was NOT how it happened. Markus had been gentle and sweet and had asked Connor how it felt and if he was okay the entire time. Connor had wanted to scream that yes, yes, he was okay! He was so okay! All the tender touches Markus laid on his body were amplified by his system’s need for closeness. The actual deed had been a bit clumsy, both Markus and Connor’s inexperience coming in to play a role there, but it hadn’t mattered in the slightest. Because it was good. And Connor had never felt more loved and cared for than in that particular moment. Markus’ hands had roamed all over his body, rubbing, stimulating and Connor could have cried at the tenderness of it all. His skin disappeared wherever Markus’ hands were and he’d cried out while Markus moved behind him. He felt Markus’ fingers move into his hair and the other android slammed his head down against the hard iron of the table when Connor screamed for him to stop._

_No._

_No._

_Stop._

_SSSSTTTTOOOPPPP_

_This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. This was a good memory. It was_ good. _It couldn’t be corrupted by the present. It shouldn’t. Markus was loving and careful and that was how it ended. Connor had gone back with him to Jericho. They smiled and laughed the entire way back, not able to keep their hands off of each other. It was_ good. _They’d had fun. Both of them. That was good. That was good. It was good._

-7

Connor couldn’t stop the fearful tremors that spread over his body in waves as Zlatko finally stumbled off of him. He whimpered between pants, his eyes wide but unseeing as he tried to regain his composure. Every muscle was tensed up, but he didn’t think he could move. His head was bleeding profusely from where Zlatko had crashed it against the table when Connor had begged him to stop.

He’d _begged._

 _Beg and I’ll stop,_ Zlatko had snarled. And Connor had. He’d broke. In the end, it didn’t make any difference. Zlatko had just laughed, a bellowing, rumbling sound that had permeated through to Connor’s core.

It was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. The very worst. Connor’s broken arm shook as he tried to roll himself back onto his back. He hurt. Everything hurt. He didn’t _want_ to cry, didn’t want to give Zlatko the satisfaction, but he couldn’t help the exhausted sobs wrecking his frame, bringing his arm up to his face in an attempt to stifle them.

“They always break,” Zlatko rumbled in contentment. He swayed as he staggered out of the room, pants still down to his knees.

Connor squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tears slide down his temples. He bit his arm hard enough to taste thirium. He was still shaking and he didn’t think he would ever stop. The tears mixed with the thirium that was gushing down his face and he felt his consciousness waver alarmingly.

He rolled onto his usual side and thought about it, but ultimately decided against preconstructing Markus spooning behind him that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine we're at the halfway point in this story. Let me know your thoughts on this chapter. Was it too much?


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